Famous Last Words
by SignedXoxoxoNelly
Summary: After 47 hours without any word from Oliver, Felicity makes a decision that alters all those involved with the Arrow and his mission. With this decision comes a new Felicity, who is coming to terms with Oliver's death. However, in their world, the dead never seem to stay that way, but Felicity has yet to grasp this fact. Olicity, Aftermath from 3x09 fic.
1. Part I

So, after watching the mid-season finale I was barraged with ideas that just wouldn't leave me alone so I thought I'd write them out. These ideas aren't based off of any sort of spoilers, they're just straight from my brain and what little I know about the comics and other DC characters. This is my first fic in the Arrow fandom, so I'm still grappling with writing the characters. Let me know if anyone seems glaringly off.

Obvious to say, I do not own Arrow or any of it's characters. I'm just using them to occupy myself until the series returns from it's winter hiatus. And the lyrics are from My Chemical Romance's "Famous Last Words"

Enjoy.

XoxoxoNelly

* * *

_Now I know_

_That I can't make you stay_

_But where's your heart?_

_But where's your heart?_

_But where's your..._

* * *

"I want you to train me."

Diggle's head shot up suddenly at the abrupt words, his eyes landing on Felicity briefly before flitting to the to-go coffee cup she had vehemently slammed down on his table. One edge of the lid had popped off the lip of the cup at the sudden force of impact. Diggle raised an eyebrow at the cup, and then directed the expression at Felicity who was biting her lip and fidgeting as she stared at the coffee cup, realizing the unintentional force she had used.

"You what?" Diggle asked, his voice level as he stared at his teammate unfaltering gaze.

Both of her hands wrapped tightly around her own coffee cup in front of her, and she sucked in a deep breath, opening her mouth to repeat her demand. Before she could utter the statement again Diggle held up his hand to stop her, "I heard you. I'm just..." he paused, "processing."

Felicity nodded mutely. She continued to remain silent for several moments, probably to give Diggle some time to process her request-slash-demand. Mostly because she wanted to prolong his rejection of her idea. How many times had she asked to be properly trained, only to have Oliver and Diggle shut down the idea before she could even argue the pros against the cons? They'd only ever settled on the most basic of self defense—solarplex, instep, nose, groin—or telling her to just wait for one of them. They basically had made her dependent on them and their help, which not only was a little chauvinistic and sexist but also just really stupid.

But now, now Oliver wasn't here for her to count on a dashing rescue. She was on her own.

Well, sort of, she had Diggle. But that was beside the point.

"Felicity," John began, saying her name slowly as he tried to produce the correct words to oppose whatever reasoning she had come up with to justify him training her.

"It's been forty-seven hours Digg. Something's gone wrong."

Diggle paused, his eyes falling to the coffee cup, which after a moment he took into his hand and took a long drink from. He stood, clearing his throat as he turned away from Felicity. He paced a few steps away from her, toward the salmon ladder and other gym equipment before he pivoted quickly to face Felicity again.

"We don't know," he started slowly.

"Diggle, if he had killed Ra's al Ghul, he'd be back by now. We'd be busting open a pinata that looked like Ra's al Ghul's face, throwing a 'congrats! You killed the demon! Party."

He couldn't argue with her claim and he pressed his mouth into a thin line in response. "I fail to see how that means you need me to start training you." Diggle held his arms out and raised his brows at Felicity.

"If Oliver is," she stopped short, her breath stuttering in her chest, she didn't need to finish the sentence, Diggle understood her perfectly, "then we have to honor his memory by continuing his mission."

"Which Roy and I can do." Diggle countered.

"But you'll need help."

"You're our tech, you watch our backs, Felicity, that is your talent."

"It's not my limit. I can do more, Diggle, I can be more. For Oliver, I-I can do this."

Her blue eyes were misty with unshed tears but they were determined. She had already decided this was the path she was taking. She was done sitting on the sidelines while the boys risked their lives nightly. She was done waiting for them to save her, depending on them to protect her when there was no way they could ever really guarantee her safety.

Diggle sighed, fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. Part of him knew Oliver would hate him for agreeing to bring Felicity into this life, but another part of him knew how practical this was, that training Felicity to protect herself could only be a good thing.

Lifting his head he stared at the glass case that held the Arrow suit and he sighed.

"Five AM tomorrow, be here. Be ready."

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

The taste of blood was a sharp tang in his mouth as he opened his eyes to complete darkness. The pain was nearly unbearable, his sword wound was still seeping blood, leaching into the snow below him and dyeing it red. Shutting his eyes again, he wished for unconsciousness, he wished to die unaware of his death.

His limbs were completely numb, fingers most likely frostbitten. Each breath he took sent a searing, sharp stab of pain throughout his chest. Breathing out through his nose he squeezed his eyes shut, tensed his jaw and hoped for death to come.

But it didn't.

As he lay in the snow, thoughts of what would happen now flooded through his mind.

Thea would only have Merlyn left, she would lean on him, and he would continue to use her as a pawn to save his own skin. He would use her as a bargaining chip, a grunt to do his dirty work, and Oliver wouldn't be there to stop him or protect her.

Roy would have to rely on Digg and Felicity to help dissuade him from giving into his guilt and anger. Oliver had faith in them, but he knew that Roy identified with him on a level that Diggle and Felicity just did not reach.

Diggle would be torn between his obligation to Oliver's mission and his duty to Lyla and Sara. But he wouldn't let Roy and Felicity do anything stupid.

Felicity. _Felicity_.

He'd told her he loved her, and she was probably furious with him for how he'd presented such a relationship-altering confession, but he'd had to do it, because there was a chance he wouldn't return, that he'd never get to say it again. And that chance was quickly becoming a reality.

Oliver didn't know how long he'd been unconscious in the snow, but it had to have been hours since Ra's sent him over the cliff's edge. He was dying.

Suddenly, the darkness overtook him and he thought of nothing.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

She was feeling leaner, and stronger and she hadn't touched the pint of mint chip in her freezer for the past thirteen days since Diggle had started training her (15 days since Oliver left to duel the Demon). She had been tempted multiple times, though. However, she fought off the urges to drown her sorrows with ice cream almost nightly, whenever thoughts of Oliver would invade her mind and drive her to tears and near hysteric panic attacks. And in the middle of the night when the nightmares of Oliver being through by swords, scythes, spears and arrows woke her up, she resisted the urge to gorge herself on ice cream once again. She fitfully laid in bed, never truly falling back asleep, fearing what the dark abyss of unconsciousness would bring.

So, even though she felt meaner and leaner, she was also feeling more hopeless with each passing day.

Normally, she was the hopeful member of Team Arrow, the eternal optimist, the light-bringer in their times of darkness. But this time, this instance, she was the pessimist, she was the Debbie Downer. She was thinking the worst, assuming disaster had struck and was enacting her contingency plan.

It was 5 AM, but Diggle was nowhere in sight. Instead, the foundry was eerily silent.

"Felicity Smoak."

Felicity spun on her taped feet—Diggle had been adamant about training her barefoot so she could feel the ground and her movements as she fought—to find Nyssa al Ghul standing just a few feet away, emerging from the shadows of the foundry and into the dim light cast by one of the ceiling lamps.

"Heir to the Demon." Felicity cocked her head to the side, looking and sounding way more intimidating than she truly felt as she faced the daughter of the man who had presumably killed the man she loved.

The connectedness of all the people in her life was so confusing.

Nyssa stalked forward, light on her feet like a cat, ever the assassin she was raised to be. She was flanked by two assassins, one who had the lower half of his face covered by a black cloth, the other kept his face unhidden, and Felicity could determine he was of Asian descent.

"I am here to give you the verdict of Oliver's trial." Nyssa said, stopping in her path, shoulders back, hands held still at her side, close to her daggers that hung like trophies from her belt.

Felicity lifted her chin, out of her periphery locating the closest weapon—a bo staff that Sara used to train with when she sparred with Oliver—how fitting. She wasn't expecting a fight from Nyssa, but you could never be sure when it came to the League—Ra's al Ghul's impatience had surfaced all too suddenly, there was no telling what Nyssa's next move could be.

"I have a feeling I already know what the verdict was." Felicity murmured, rolling her shoulders back, trying to keep up her confident countenance. She desperately wanted to fidget, chew her lip, tap her tablet, rotate her ankles, but she remained still instead. She didn't want to show any signs of weakness to Nyssa, or the other two League members present. Especially since she was alone.

"Oliver was found guilty of the murder of Ta-er al-Saher and punished accordingly by my father, the Head of the Demon, Ra's al Ghul."

"Spare me the prepared League of Assassins speeches. Just tell me he's dead." Felicity surprised herself with the brusqueness of her words, but decided to go with it. Not thinking about her words was keeping her from babbling as well as crumbling into a pile of brokenness.

If Nyssa was shocked by Felicity's abrasive speech she did not show it. She blinked slowly, before nodding once, "Oliver Queen is dead."

Felicity couldn't monitor her reaction this time, her hand lifted to her chest automatically, her hand falling over her heart, her brows furrowing, teeth clenching so tightly her jaw ached. A tortured sob escaped her throat as she forced the tears to stay behind her closed lids. She closed her eyes for several heartbeats, but was aware even without looking that Nyssa and the other two League members had not departed.

"Where is his body?" She asked. He deserved a proper burial, where those who loved him could mourn him and put him to rest.

Really, Felicity needed to see him one last time, to share the words she should've said before he left.

"His body could not be recovered."

Felicity opened her eyes at the new voice, it wasn't Nyssa who spoke, but the Asian man to her left. Felicity's blue eyes fell on him as a tear trailed down her cheek. Absently, she wiped away the tear with the side of her hand.

A pregnant pause fell between the four individuals for several moments. Felicity was trying not to imagine all the ways in which Oliver could've died where recovering his body would be impossible. It was proving a hard feat because her imagination was very, very imaginative. And vivid.

"Was it quick?" She asked, her voice just above a whisper but seemingly a booming declaration in the silent foundry with its cavernous ceilings.

"It was honorable."

Felicity's head turned to the side, knowing that Nyssa's avoidance of answering the true question meant Oliver had suffered. Probably a great deal. Her mind ran away with all the possibilities of his death again. Gruesome. Every image her mind conjured was worse than the one that preceded it.

"My father has no ill-will for your team or for Starling City now that Sara's murder has been dealt with justly. So long as you stay out of the League's matters, there shall be no reason for further interference from my father or any of his disciples." Nyssa's hands disappeared into the folds of her robe, before reappearing with a piece of parchment held between her fingers, "but if you are ever in need of speaking, use this to contact me."

Felicity's brows furrowed, that was such a strange offering from the woman. She opened her eyes to see Nyssa's back now facing her as the woman approached the shadows of the building once more. Her fellow League members were already turning to follow her, the Asian man's eyes leaving Felicity last, his gaze lingering in a way that didn't feel hostile, or friendly.

"You know he didn't kill Sara right? You know he would never kill her. He loved her." Felicity's jaw was set as she spoke the words, hoping that Nyssa didn't truly believe Oliver was the guilty party. Surely, Nyssa must know Oliver better than that, she must be aware that Oliver sacrificed himself for a good reason, but not because he killed Sara.

Nyssa paused, turning her head just enough to glance low over her shoulder, "As I said, if you ever need to contact me, you have the means."

Felicity understood now—if she ever discovered Sara's true murderer, she was to contact Nyssa so she could enact her revenge, to get her justice, outside the League's rules, or her Father's laws. Felicity swallowed, she would never be contacting the Demon's heir. She would never betray Oliver's memory by handing over his sister to the League. It was her job now to protect Thea, like Oliver would have.

But, she couldn't tell Nyssa all of that, so she just nodded.

"Goodbye, Felicity Smoak."

Before Felicity could utter her own goodbye there was a swishing of fabric and the foundry was empty.

Not a moment later, the the beeping of the door panel tore Felicity out of her stunned state and she turned around as the door was swung open, revealing Diggle jogging down the steps toward her.

"Sorry, Lyla got called in this morning so I had to stay with Sara until the sitter could get to our house." His brows furrowed as he sensed something off with Felicity, "are you alright?" He asked reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.

"Oliver's dead."

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

He awakes gasping for breath, only to find water pouring into his mouth and down into his lungs. His eyes burn against the liquid as he attempts to turn his head. The liquid is different than water, thicker, and not clear but a tie-dyed mix of green and blue.

He looks up, there is light above him. He tries to move his arms to propel him upward, for a moment they comply, pinwheeling and moving him slightly. But soon exhaustion takes over his limbs, and his need for oxygen is a pressing necessity.

His line of sight is beginning to tinge with black at the edges and he knows he's about to lose consciousness.

The last thing he sees is Felicity, like always, she is there to greet him when he returns home.

* * *

_And I know_

_There's nothing I can say_

_To change that part _

_To change that part_

_To change..._

* * *

I'm thinking there will be three more parts to this, if it sounds like you guys want more. Review please xo


	2. Part II

Holy moly! I was not expecting the response I got for this fic! It's been insane receiving all the emails about your alerts/favorites/reviews. I appreciate it all so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

So, obviously, I've decided to continue this fic. Right now, it's still looking like it'll be four parts in total. So this is part 2. You get a little bit more of Roy in this chapter, as well as some Laurel. Ray and Thea will be coming next chapter.

Again, I don't own any of the characters from Arrow. Nor do I own the lyrics used.

Enjoy

xoxoxoNelly

* * *

_So many_

_Bright lights, they cast a shadow_

_But can I speak?_

_Well is it hard understanding_

_I'm incomplete_

* * *

Roy was staring a hole into her head. His eyes had been fixed on her for the past five minutes, ever since she had filled him in on Nyssa's visit earlier that morning.

Diggle was silent, his hands forming a steeple in front of his mouth where he sat in Felicity's office chair.

She was pretty certain Roy was waiting for her to crumble to pieces, but she already had, in Diggle's arms after the words had rushed out of her mouth just moments after she'd dropped the bomb of Oliver's death being confirmed by the next best source besides Ra's himself.

Finally, Roy glanced away, his hands running through his hair. "Where do we go from here?" His voice was rough with his own emotions. Oliver was his mentor, his only family, one of the few people in his life who had looked at him and seen more than what was just presented at the surface.

Felicity's eyes met Diggle's as he glanced over his hands at her. It was a fair question, but she wasn't certain yet if she had an answer to it. Her mind had barely wrapped itself around Oliver's death, she couldn't even begin to think of what would happen next. How would she move on from Oliver? She was in love with him.

"I mean, do we retaliate. Do we kill someone from the League because they killed one of our own? Do we dissolve the team? Do we keep going on like none of this ever happened and pretend Oliver never existed?" He paused before cursing softly, "shit, what do we tell Thea?"

Felicity had been wondering the same thing since she had regained her sanity after her tearful breakdown. She crossed her arms over her chest, turning on her bare heel and looking at Roy.

He was fraying at the edges.

Without another word she approached him, pulling him into a hug, her arms going around his shoulders and she pulled his head against her chest, petting his hair softly as the tears silently seeped from his eyes, dotting the gray tank top she was wearing. He sank against her, his strength leeching out of him as soon as she embraced him. There was something about knowing someone was there to catch you that allowed you to truly fall apart, and in that moment, Felicity was willing to catch Roy.

"For now, we don't tell Thea," Felicity whispered against Roy's hair. He straightened slightly, his eye's finding Felicity's.

"Then what do we tell her?"

Felicity was silent for a moment as she thought about their options. "She doesn't know Sara is dead. We can tell her Oliver is visiting Sara." Felicity suggested and Roy nodded before hugging her tightly once more.. He was grateful for not having to come up with a lie to tell Thea. It would be hard enough to tell her the lie, he didn't want to have to fabricate it as well. However, he knew one day they would have to tell Thea and that thought scared him more than anything else.

Over the top of Roy's head Felicity met Diggle's eyes. The older man nodded solemnly before he stood and approached them, laying a hand on each of their shoulders.

"As for things regarding the Arrow, we continue Oliver's mission, as he would have wanted. This was always bigger than him, it became bigger than him when he brought all of us into the fold. We're his insurance that even if something happened to him, justice would be carried out by those he trusted." He squeezed their shoulders, "now it is our responsibility to protect Starling City."

She pulled back from Roy after another moment, swiping her thumb down his cheek to remove the tear tracks that had been lining his face, "Digg is right," she said and Roy nodded.

"I'll wear the suit for a while, until Roy feels he's ready to take up the mantle," Digg said, his voice suddenly soft. Felicity nodded.

"Does this mean Felicity will become Arsenal after I take over as the Arrow?" Roy's tone was an attempt at being flippant but it wasn't very successful. However, to keep the situation from darkening further, both Felicity and Diggle forced smiles onto their faces.

"I don't think the suit will look half as good on me," Felicity joked back, her voice cracking even though she tried to make it project evenly.

Diggle pressed a kiss to the top of her head before he patted Roy on the back and then stepped away from the both of them to silently grieve his friend alone.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

Someone was dragging him through the snow. He couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, but they didn't have the upper body strength to carry him across their shoulders or back so they were resorting to dragging him. He was tethered to some sort of sled contraption and being dragged through the darkness to God-knows-where.

"Who are you?" He croaked.

"Be silent," a voice whispered back through the flurries of snow. "Silence will save your life."

Then all was black once more and he was silent.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

She wasn't sure what had driven her to drink, but she was certainly glad she wasn't drinking alone.

"You really don't think there's some way he survived?" Diggle asked, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass of vodka.

"I guess you can never rule it out when it comes to Oliver. How many times has he managed to cheat death?" She returned, leaning back in her seat.

However, her heart wasn't in her words. It had been two weeks already. If he was alive, he would've found his way back by now by some mode of transport or another. The most likely scenario was that he had truly died in his battle against Ra's al Ghul. Felicity refused to delude herself with fantasies of a dramatic survival where Oliver would reveal himself as alive months later. She couldn't count on that, because all the odds were against it. She needed to be realistic, and she was trying, that's why she was training, that's why they were continuing to keep up appearances by the Arrow, that's why they had told Thea that Oliver was just out backpacking with Sara for a while, that's why they told Laurel was tracking a criminal outside the city.

"Too many." When Diggle responded, she had almost forgotten she'd even asked a question.

When she met Digg's eyes, she knew that he knew she had no faith in Oliver surviving. Which was sad really, because she loved Oliver, and she had always believed in him doing the impossible—being the hero, putting an end to his killing, defeating Slade, killing Ra's al Ghul. But she'd been wrong to believe he could defeat Ra's. She knew that now. She knew better than the believe the impossible could happen. Oliver was dead, she had to move on.

Felicity murmured her agreement before taking another sip of the burning alcohol. "I think we need to be realistic. There's no sense in waiting for him to magically reappear. We can't stop living and just wait for him because he may never return. I've spent enough time sitting in one place in life, stuck."

"Does that mean you'll move on?" Diggle didn't need to elaborate more, she knew exactly what he was asking. Would she move on from loving Oliver? And if she did, would it be with Ray Palmer? Or some other man in her future that she had yet to meet?

Ray Palmer. He had been the farthest thing from her mind for the past two weeks since Oliver's death had been confirmed. The thought of her moving on with Ray Palmer caused her chest to ache with a sadness and a nostalgia. A longing for something that had never even happened. A sadness for the love she and Oliver would never get to revel in together.

They hadn't even gotten together, and yet she knew she would never love a man like she loved Oliver Queen.

She set her glass down on the med table, which they were seated at, and sighed, "I don't know Digg. Right now. I need to focus on becoming what the city needs."

There was a wry smile on his face, "you sound like him."

She paused and replayed the words she had just spoken, shocking herself in the process. She sounded exactly like Oliver. Actually, she was pretty certain that exact sentence had left Oliver's mouth at one time or another. She glanced up at Diggle, looking as shocked as she felt, whereas Diggle didn't look surprised at all.

"I guess it's fitting," Diggle said in an exhale. A sigh, yet not quite a sigh. It was like a breath of acquiescence, like he had realized this sort of thing would happen but all along he'd been hoping his gut instinct was wrong. Now, the inevitable was coming into reality and he was accepting it. Whatever _it_ was.

"What's fitting?" She asked, turning her head to look at him better, her pony tail falling over her shoulder before she flicked behind her once more.

"That you become our leader now that Oliver is gone," his voice quivers at the last word, the remnant of how affected they are by Oliver's death still exposing themselves every now and again.

"I don't know if I'm leader material," she said, pushing herself to her feet with her palms pressed flat to the tabletop. She turned and walked away, as she did she let her fingers trail along the smooth framework of Oliver's bow. She stopped, eyes staring at the salmon ladder. It felt like just yesterday she'd been watching Oliver climb up it's rungs, her gaze admiring his body as it rippled with it's incredible power. The incredible power that had been diminished and overpowered so easily. He was human, they all were human.

"We've haven't trained yet today," she said, turning back to Digg.

"I don't think either of us is sober enough for a real training session." Diggle said, truly sighing this time, like he knew his words wouldn't deter her in the slightest.

"I'm not drunk." She began to stretch, raising her arms above her head and twisting her torso to loosen her unused muscles, "and neither are you Digg."

She'd got him. He wasn't drunk, not even close to being any form of inebriated. He was just aware of how fragile they both were in that moment. It was close to dawn, they'd been in the foundry all night after a mission that had almost gone dangerously awry. They had sent Roy home, but they both had stayed, deciding on a night cap that evolved into a night of reminiscing and discussing the future of the team.

"Fine," the word came out as yet another sigh—he was doing that a lot nowadays—and he stood from his seat.

The club above them was eerily silent, it's patrons having already had their last call and drifted out into the streets of Starling City, piling into cabs or falling into beds, but in the silent foundry two friends circled each other on the training mats.

"Hand to hand," he said. "Best of three, standard pin." He slid his feet and sunk into a fighter's stance, "ladies first."

Suddenly glad she'd worn her contacts that day she smirked, raising her hands and forming fists with them, ignoring the voice inside her head that said she was too much of a klutz to really take on John Diggle. Shoving that voice inside, she ran at Digg, throwing a punch which he dodged before she swung back around with a knee aimed for his abdomen. Catching her knee he turned his shoulder toward her to protect himself from another blow. Chopping his arm at the inside of his elbow to loosen his grip on her knee she twisted and, while he was still twisted and off balance, swept his legs out from under him.

He rolled through the fall and to his feet before she could pin him but when he spun to face her again he was breathing heavily and she was still smirking.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"Where are we?"

His voice was hoarse from disuse. The few times he had awoke he hadn't uttered a word, remembering the voice's warning to remain silent.

But now, they were out from the snowstorm, inside a damp cave, a fire raging against the opposite wall from the one he was propped up against. He was trying to place together whether his experience in the green water was real or just a nightmare that he had encountered as he neared death.

"Somewhere the League won't find you." The voice replied, and now that his mind was no longer sleep-addled and pain ridden Oliver could tell the voice was feminine.

"Who are you?"

"You ask too many questions for a dead man."

A corner of his mouth tilted upward, "but I'm not dead."

"Exactly." A shadowy figure crossed his field of vision, but already consciousness was blurring the edges of his sight, "now sleep, Oliver Queen. Your soul is still busy tethering itself back to your body."

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"Thea's been asking questions. I can't keep lying to her." Roy said as he came down the steps into the foundry. The dark circles under his eyes were unbearably prominent and Felicity wished she knew how to ease his pain, or make the process of grieving easier for him.

Felicity looked up at him from where the side of her fist was planted into the extended arm of the Wing Chun dummy. Roy stared at her for a moment, possibly in disbelief that she was using the dummy, and properly at that. She ran through the choreographed circuit once more before straightening up.

Diggle was standing a few feet from her, arms crossed over his chest and a proud smirk on his lips.

Felicity stepped back from the dummy, sweat rolling down between her shoulder blades as she placed her hands on her hips. "She can only accept the excuse that he's visiting Sara for so long," Felicity said, pointing out the obvious, "eventually it just won't be believable that he's still visiting Sara without calling. Fake text messages can only go so far."

"Do we tell her the truth?" Diggle's voice entered the conversation as he uncrossed his arms and approached Felicity as Roy neared her as well. They were both looking at her for the answers, over the past week it had become more and more obvious that they were turning to her as the leader of their team.

"And what would the truth be?"

Felicity, Diggle and Roy all turned to the voice that had suddenly reverberated throughout the foundry.

Laurel stood at the top of the stairs, her hands gripping the railing of the landing, knuckles turning white, as she looked down at the three teammates of the Arrow, "where is Oliver?"

The three shared a look before Roy mumbled an excuse and slipped away toward the back of the foundry. Diggle stepped closer to Felicity, silently offering to talk to Laurel but she held up a hand to stop him. As the unofficial new leader of the team, it was her responsibility to deal with Laurel.

"I'll handle this," she murmured before she flicked her eyes up at the suit hanging in its glass case, "the Arrow needs to make an appearance tonight."

Diggle leaned back on his heels and then nodded before turning and beginning to suit up without another word.

"What's going on?" Laurel asked as she made her way down the staircase with a purpose in her high-heeled stride. Felicity couldn't hide the unimpressed look on her face as Laurel faced her with squared shoulders and a dangerous glint in her eye. Felicity was aware that Laurel was training—with a former vigilante at that—and she was not as deluded as Oliver had been about the situation. Felicity knew exactly what Laurel was doing, hell, she was doing the same thing. But Felicity wasn't doing it for revenge.

Laurel would take up the Canary mantle. As Felicity was doing with Oliver's legacy. She wouldn't be the Arrow, but she would be his partner when Roy took up the Hood.

With a heavy sigh, Felicity motioned for Laurel to take a seat, which the woman did, crossing her legs prettily as she fixed Felicity with a hard stare, waiting for the blond to begin. Laurel was an amalgamation of so many cliché contradictions that she made Felicity's head spin whenever she needed to speak with her.

"The League of Assassins were tired of waiting for Oliver to find out who Sara's murderer was."

Laurel blinked at the woman before her but stayed silent.

"Oliver was adamant about protecting Malcolm Merlyn, for his sister." Felicity glanced away for just a moment before letting her blue eyes slide back to Laurel, "Ra's al Ghul challenged Oliver to a duel." The whole thing sounded so ridiculous and hilariously medieval in her head. But it wasn't ridiculous, or hilarious or medieval—it was her reality, a reality she had to face every morning that she woke up without Oliver next to her. Another day spent without his smile, or his intense eyes, or his scarred body, or his sense of uncontrollable self-sacrifice and lack of self-preservation.

"And?" Laurel pressed, eyes narrowing, some of her perfectly curled hair falling into her face which she brushed away. Felicity watched the movement of the woman's hand, cataloging the bones and muscle and tendon in the appendage like she'd been studying with Diggle, to be more effective in a fight, to know how to properly and efficiently take down an opponent smartly and not just rely on luck—but skill and intelligence.

"Oliver left to fight Ra's al Ghul a month ago."

Laurel's mouth dropped open, "a-a month?"

Felicity said nothing as she let the brunette process this news. At the shock that was evident on Laurel's face, Felicity realized that she, Diggle and Roy had been quite convincing in their story of Oliver being out of town. Many Thea wasn't as unconvinced as Roy made it sound, maybe they could keep up the facade for just a bit longer.

"Oh god," Laurel's throat constricted painfully, a sob threatening to escape. Felicity remembered the day where she had reacted the same as Laurel. It seemed so long ago now. A month since she had let herself crumble. She'd only allowed herself a day before she began to pick up the pieces of herself. She wondered how long Laurel would lay a broken mess before she either turned to the bottle or decided to get stronger like Felicity had. Felicity was still uncertain about how strong Laurel really was. She wasn't Sara, that much she could tell, and Sara was incredibly strong. It didn't mean Laurel was necessarily weak, though.

"He's dead, isn't he? He's dead too, just like Sara." Laurel gasped out the words, eyes widening as she stared at nothing.

Felicity's gaze softened but she didn't confirm nor deny Laurel's words. To give the woman a few moments, Felicity stood and retrieved a bottle of water, placing it down on the edge of the desk next to Laurel before she walked back to the Wing Chun dummy and began to run through the circuit of intricate blocks and strikes. A part of her hoped Laurel would just leave to grieve on her own. She hoped Laurel didn't expect her to fall into tears along with her.

Once upon a time, maybe two months ago, Felicity would have joined Laurel in her sobbing. But in the month that had passed so much had change for Felicity, so much had changed inside of Felicity. She was not invincible, no—there were still moments where she broke down and felt like her old self—but it was no longer her gut response to be the damsel, to be helpless, to cry when things didn't go her way.

She was aware of Laurel approaching after several moments had passed. Her shoulder's tensed without her meaning them to.

"You've been training, too." Laurel said, her voice despondent as she watched the muscles in Felicity's arms flex and relax—before they were a modest size but nothing impressive—now they were evidently defined and gave away the existence of the power hidden beneath her skin. A power she had been honing, a power she now relied upon as her foundation to keep her standing, a power she was using as a crutch to hold up her broken heart and family.

Felicity stopped, pressing her palm flat against the core of the dummy and glanced up at Laurel. "We've decided to continue Oliver's mission, even if he isn't coming back."

"I want in." There wasn't even a pause between Felicity's sentence and Laurel's response, it was automatic and that is what made Felicity pause.

Felicity turned away from Oliver's former paramour, picking up a towel and threading it around her neck, wiping the sweat from her brow. "I don't think Oliver would have wanted that."

"He wouldn't have wanted you involved in this either. Yet you're training to go out into the field." Laurel's tone was accusatory and Felicity knew the woman had a point, and that she herself was being a bit hypocritical.

"I've been involved in _this _a lot longer than you have. Oliver chose to let me in on this life." Immediately after the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. She knew she shouldn't have said them, she was letting her anger and frustration get the better of her. She sighed before turning back to face the brunette, who looked just as frustrated and angry as Felicity felt.

"He may have chosen to bring you into the team, but I'm in on the secret too. I've been helping the Arrow for months now."

There was so many things Felicity wanted to say in return, like how Laurel had once been behind a task force designed to apprehend Oliver and imprison him. She wanted to point out to Laurel how impatient and impetuous she was as a person, how she had a penchant for leaning on bad habits, how she didn't know how to stop monitor her own decisions and determine if they are smart or not.

But she didn't say any of those things.

"Laurel," Felicity started but the brunette cut her off.

"You sound just like him!" She threw out her hands, "I've been training longer than you have. I'm more prepared for this." She looked like a child throwing a fit when she didn't get her way.

"You don't get it Laurel. Your heart isn't in the right place for you to fight alongside this team. You are in this for the revenge." Felicity said, her voice strong, her back straight as she faced the woman Oliver had once loved.

"And you're not?" Laurel shot back.

"No, I'm not training so that I can take on the League for killing Oliver. I'm not trying to avenge Sara's death, because she deserves to finally know peace. I'm doing this because it has been Oliver's mission to return Starling City to the state it was in before the corruption took over. I am doing this to make Oliver's city better, like he vowed to do. I am not going to let him break his vow because he died, I will accomplish what he can no longer do. In his memory."

Felicity whipped around and stalked off to her desk, leaning her palms on the flat surface as she hunched over her screens, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. Her breath was coming in short gasps now, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut away the pain that was quickly beginning to overtake her.

"He loved you." Laurel's voice was small and fragile and quivering.

"And I loved him. But he doesn't know that, because I never told him." Her greatest regret spilled out of her mouth before she could stop it. She hadn't shared this secret with Diggle, but something in her wanted to last out at Laurel. Really, she just wanted the truth to be out there, she wanted someone else to know how terrible she felt for never telling Oliver how she felt. He was so emotionally shut off, yet he had told her he loved her like it was the easiest thing he had ever done in his life.

And she had said _nothing_.

"He knew." Laurel whispered, "he knew."

That didn't make Felicity feel any better. Nothing Laurel said could make her feel better.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"You're from the League." Oliver's voice was a bitter rasp now, and he could stay conscious for longer periods of time. During his moments of wakefulness he watched the lithe figure move about the cave, which they had stayed in for the past few days while she waited for his soul to "finish tethering." He was still trying to decipher those words.

She paused where she was crouched, adding more kindling to the fire. She turned dark, almond shape eyes on him, outlined in black kohl. "What would make you say that?" She asked, her voice lightly accented.

"The dagger in your belt. It's design, I've seen it before on League members."

"I could have stolen it from the body of a League member I killed."

"But you didn't."

She turned her face away from him again. "What else can you tell about me, Oliver Queen?" She asked as she stood to her feet.

"You're a mix of Middle-Eastern and Asian descent," he said, pushing himself to sit up straighter against the cave wall. "You're familiar with the area."

She nodded once as she moved over to a burlap bag she had been carrying on the sled with him. From the bag she pulled out a wrapped slab of dried meat and some nuts and dried fruits. She divided half of the food into two equal portions, one of which she handed to Oliver.

"For some reason you don't want me dead. Either you have use for me, or you like to spite the Demon," Oliver said, looking up into her face as he took the offered food from her.

She lifted a thin brow at him, "or possibly both. Now eat, Oliver Queen, your body is still recovering from it's journey through the pit."

* * *

_A life that's so demanding_

_I get so weak _

_A love that's so demanding _

_I can't speak_

* * *

So that was a bit longer than the last one.

Reviews are my lifeblood... please keep me going! xo


	3. Part III

Each chapter is getting progressively longer! Also, the identity of the woman helping Oliver is revealed!

Thank you so, so, so, so much for all the favorites, follows and reviews. The response for this fic completely baffles me and it makes me so happy that everyone is enjoying this fic and want to see it continued.

So, I know I said there would be four parts but now I'm not so sure. It will probably be five parts long. This fic started off as just being a reunion fic, but now I've kind of developed a subplot in the conflict between Merlyn and the League (and whoever is helping Oliver) and I need to finish that as well as the Felicity and Oliver plot.

I hope you all enjoy this installment. Again, I do not own any of the recognizable characters, or the lyrics used.

xoxoxoNelly

* * *

_I am not afraid to keep on living _

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone_

_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven_

_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_

* * *

As Felicity rounded the corner and entered the dim hall that led to the locked door of the foundry she stopped suddenly. A figure was standing in front of the foundry's door, furiously pushing at the handle that wouldn't budge. Upon hearing Felicity's gasp of shock, the person turned and stepped into the small shaft of light provided by the solitary hanging lamp in the hallway.

Thea stared back at Felicity, looking just as shocked as the blond did.

Felicity quickly recovered, her mouth settling into a firm line, "It's about time you found out what's behind that door," Felicity said moving forward, Thea stepping back out of instinct as the blond keyed in the short code. As the door hissed and then opened, Felicity glanced over her shoulder at the younger Queen sibling, who still looked slightly stunned, "coming?"

Thea swallowed and then followed the older woman into the dark.

As they descended the steps, lights flickered to life above them and Thea gasped at the sight that greeted her.

"W-what is all this? Beneath my club?" Thea asked, standing at the bottom of the staircase. Felicity turned to face the younger woman, folding her hands across her chest. She needed to give Thea a moment to take in the scene around her, to try to understand what she had just unearthed.

"I don't know how much your father has told you, but I'm sure you have some idea of what the League of Assassins is." Felicity said, glancing over at the glass cases containing arrows, weaponry and other gear. Then, finally her eyes fell on the case that contained the Arrow's suit. A feeling a dread and loss and regret formed in the bit of her stomach, weighing her down heavily. She sighed, shaking away the feeling.

"They're the reason my father has been hiding. What do they have to do with this lair being under my club." Thea replied, and even though she looked overwhelmed and shocked, there was a glimmer of intrigue in her eyes as she stepped up to the closest glass case. Green arrows with different types of arrowheads lay in organized rows beneath the glass.

"We'll get to that. First, we need to talk about Oliver." Felicity's voice caused Thea to glance up and meet the older woman's eyes. Thea's brows furrowed as she swallowed and nodded once.

"I know he's not backpacking through Peru with Sara." Thea's voice was stronger than Felicity would have expected, but the younger girl's words alone stopped her short.

Felicity paused, curious to know how Thea had figured this all out.

"He can't be backpacking with Sara because Sara is dead. Laurel told me."

Felicity bit down on her bottom lip as she turned away from Thea, walking toward her desk, her fingertips sliding across the glass as she gathered herself. A spark of shock had ignited in her as the words left Thea's mouth. Of course gorgeous Laurel had told Thea. The beginnings of a migraine began to pound at Felicity's temple but she fought down the urge to rub her head.

"Where is my brother?" Suddenly, Thea sounded like a little girl, lost and alone, hoping for the best but knowing the worst would be her reality.

Felicity sucked in a deep breath, "he's dead." The words were spoken in a soft, hard tone. Felicity had delivered this news so many times now, had repeated the words to herself over and over, that it no longer caused much of an impact on her. As she listened to her own voice she realized now how insensitive it might have sounded, but it was too late now. She had said it, she could not take back those words.

She expected to hear the sobs of a grieving woman—similar to Laurel's—but instead there was silence. Felicity turned to see Thea's hands curl tightly into fists, her jaw quivering for a moment before it stopped, then her hands unfurled and relaxed at her sides. A placid expression softened her cheeks and mouth, and an air of calm emanated from her.

It was yet another example of how much Thea had changed in the few months she had been with her father. Felicity realized now how blind Oliver could be when it came to the people he loved. It was a stubborn quality of his, he only liked to accept the good about those he loved. Like his father, mother, Thea. Herself. He always saw Felicity as only light, only good, only hope. Now she was anything but those things.

"Who?" Thea asked, her voice hoarse with her restrained emotions.

"The League of Assassins." Felicity answered, crossing her arms over her chest again, "their leader, Ra's al Ghul wanted vengeance on whoever killed Sara, the League accused your father. Oliver, in one of his many attempts to protect you, challenged Ra's to a duel, which he lost."

"He's really dead?" Thea's voice was choked, but she cleared her throat and then fixed hard eyes on Felicity, wanting to hear every detail of this story.

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek and nodded, despite the burning in her eyes. "He is."

"And all of this," she motioned to the room around them, the glass cases, the suits, the technology, "it was my brothers doing? He was the Arrow?"

"Yes." Felicity didn't sound detached or insensitive when she answered this time, there was a pride to her tone. She would always be proud of what Oliver had created, of the legacy he had started and she would finish.

The brunette swallowed, glancing away from Felicity, her eyes surveying the room, seeing it for what it was—the reason her brother could never be completely honest with her.

Suddenly, the door to the foundry was swinging open and both women glanced up at the sound. Before Felicity could warn whoever it was coming into the foundry, they began speaking.

"Felicity, why'd you turn off your comm? Digg and I were worried something had happened to—," Roy's words cut off suddenly as he reached the bottom of the stairs and realized his blond teammate was not alone in the foundry.

"Thea." He said her name softly as he froze in place, his eyes darting to Felicity.

"The only reason Oliver never told you about any of this Thea," Felicity started, drawing the attention away from the young man who had just stumbled upon their conversation, "was to protect you. And while I don't always agree with Oliver's methods of protection, what he did to protect you was the right thing. You were already targeted for being the younger sister of Oliver Queen and the daughter of Moira Queen. He didn't want you to also be targeted by those who were after the Arrow."

"But he told you—both of you—about his secret." Her eyes moved from Felicity to Roy and then back.

"He couldn't do this alone. He tried, and it was inefficient and messy. Diggle was the first to be brought in, Oliver came to me second." Felicity explained.

"You're the blond who was helping the Arrow for a while, and during the attack on the city?" Thea asked, trying to piece together all of the Arrow's accomplices with the people in Oliver's life.

"No, that was Sara." Roy corrected from where he stood, his tone protective and remorseful. The loss of Sara was still prominent in the foundry. Yet, Roy didn't want to connect Felicity to any of the killings because as much as he saw the change in her, he knew he needed to preserve Oliver's memory of her as the light in their dark mission.

Over the distance between them, Felicity's eyes met Roy's, an unspoken conversation evolving between them with solemn glances and heavy frowns.

"Sara knew about this too?" Thea's eyes were wide as she broke into their silent conversation.

Roy took a step toward her, holding out a hand as if to touch her shoulder comfortingly, but a glance from Thea caused his hand to drop suddenly and he sighed. Felicity shot him a sympathetic look before continuing, "she was the Canary, and a member of the League."

"Who killed her?" Thea asked, "Laurel didn't say."

Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity saw Roy hold his breath and stare at Felicity, waiting for her to answer so he could follow her lead. They were always turning to Felicity to follow her lead now.

"Thea," Felicity began with a sigh, "if I tell you that.." she trailed off.

"I can handle it. I can help you find out who really killed her, and then we can go after the League."

"No. We're _not_ going after the League." Felicity's voice was hard, immovable. "Thea," she began again.

"Why don't you want to tell me?" Thea asked, eyebrows furrowing skeptically.

"It will change everything for you." Felicity replied, eyes dark and serious.

"I think this conversation already has, what could possibly be worse than everything you've already revealed to me. My brother is dead because of whoever killed Sara."

"It was you."

There was a palpable silence in the foundry for a moment as Roy stared between the two women, waiting for a response.

"What?" Thea's tone was incredulous, loud and sharp.

"You killed Sara, Thea. Your father made you do it. And Oliver took the fall because he refused to hand you over to the League, which is what your father was betting on." Felicity's tone was hard and to-the-point, she wouldn't sugar coat this for Thea. Because of Malcolm Merlyn taking advantage of Oliver's humanity, the man she loved was dead.

Then, the sobs of a grieving woman could be heard throughout the foundry.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

The woman was pulling clothes out of her burlap bag, holding them up in front of her before nodding to herself and setting them aside. Then, she set about packing up the rest of her items into the bag, tying it shut tightly with a thick cord.

"You have eyes like daggers, Oliver Queen."

He didn't respond, a corner of his mouth tilting upward at the fact that his staring was getting on her nerves. He stayed silent and she let it be that way for several minutes. Then, without lifting her head she spoke again.

"A friend of mine tells me you have a widow grieving you."

His smirk immediately vanished, morphing instead into a frown, "I'm not married."

Her dark eyes lifted to his face suddenly in the dimly lit cave, "you do not need to be married to leave a soulmate behind." There was a flash of something dark and broken in her eyes before she stood.

_Soulmate._ The word rang out in his head and he wondered who had told her these things, and what woman they were talking about. He knew how Laurel would likely take the news, and her reaction could probably be likened to that of a grieving widow. But, a part of him felt that if anyone could be his widow grieving him it would be Felicity. He hoped that it was Felicity.

Just the thought of her caused his heart to throb painfully. His mind was instantly overtaken by images of Felicity—the feel of her fingertips cupping his cheek, the subtle scent of her perfume, the softness of her hair between his fingers, the smoothness of her back beneath his palm. He missed her, and he did not know if he would ever see her again. He had no idea what this woman's plan was, he had no idea if she ever intended to help him get home or if she was taking him straight back to Ra's al Ghul.

"Felicitas. Good fortune." The woman smiled to herself, "it seems her good fortune has rubbed off on you Oliver Queen."

Oliver's breath caught in his throat at her words. There was silence for several long moments in the cave and both inhabitants felt no need to change that.

Eventually as the cave darkened as the fire dampened, the woman spoke, "we will move to a new location tomorrow evening. If we stay here any longer, the League may find us." She stood and moved over to her bedroll, "you are not strong enough to make the journey on your feet, I will carry you on the sled once more. Now sleep, Oliver Queen, and dream of your Felicitas."

Oliver nodded once but said nothing, a lump in his throat that he could not swallow around and a heaviness in his heart that he could not ignore.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Diggle asked, placing a hand on Felicity's shoulder.

The blond looked up at him and then nodded while biting down on her lip.

"The suit looks good," Roy said from where he stood, shrugging his quiver over his shoulder.

Felicity smiled at the compliment before smoothing the mask over her brow, "you think so?"

"S.T.A.R. Labs did a good job," Diggle said in agreement. "Take a look at yourself," Diggle motioned to the empty glass case where Roy's suit usually hung. Her reflection was hazy but visible enough that she could decide that she did like her appearance in her suit.

It was dark green material, the same that was used for Roy and Oliver's suits. The shirt portion of the suit was a tank top and had a mask attached to it that covered all of her face except for her eyes, cheeks and chin. Emblazoned across the front of the suit was a light green arrowhead shaped like the ones Oliver used. The pants were made of the same resistant material with knee pads sewn in. A heavy utility belt was clasped around her waist with two holsters hanging at her hips, which were also strapped around her thighs to keep them in place. At her back was her quiver and her compact bow, designed to collapse down into a form that was easily to carry.

Her gloved hands curled into fists at her sides as she stared at her reflection, she looked like a vigilante, like a partner Oliver would be proud of. She could only hope that she was choosing the right way to honor Oliver. She closed her eyes briefly, calling up an image of Oliver smiling easily as he uttered three words she never thought she'd hear leave his lips, _"I love you,"_ said so simply it hurt.

Diggle placed a hand on her shoulder from where he stood behind her. "He would be proud."

Felicity's eyes opened and she nodded once before turning to face her two teammates, "okay, let's go."

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

She'd shot a man.

He was still alive, she hadn't shot him in the heart or anything.

She had been aiming for his heart, but his shoulder got the job done just as well.

Now he was tied up outside of the Starling City precinct for Captain Lance to collect.

"Felicity," Diggle said as she entered the foundry, "you did a good job out there tonight." He placed hands on both of her shoulders, looking at her sincerely. Before he knew what was happening she had thrown herself into his chest and begun sobbing. He held her as she shed her tears, pressing his cheek to her hair and cooing softly to her.

Diggle had always agreed with Oliver that Felicity was too good for the darkness they had been subjected to against their wills. However, Felicity had now been subjected to these evils—most of the time by her own choice. She was stronger—stronger than himself and possibly even Oliver—but even the strongest could only take so much before they broke.

Silently, Diggle made a promise to Oliver that he would always be there to hold Felicity when she broke apart, because Oliver couldn't be there to do it.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

Ray Palmer wanted to be a vigilante hero. Just like Oliver. Only, he didn't know it was Oliver. And he wasn't too fond of killing either. Just like Oliver. He wanted to help people. Just like Oliver. Just like Felicity, and Diggle and Roy.

She rubbed her temples as Ray continued to ramble on about some sort of tech he had acquired recently and how he wanted to apply it to the A.T.O.M. Suit but she just couldn't take it at that moment.

Standing up suddenly and walking over to the wall of windows, Felicity suddenly drew Ray's attention away from himself.

"You've been...different these last couple months Felicity. What's happened?" Ray asked, sounding honestly concerned. Their relationship—the nonprofessional one—had been put on hold for months, but Ray had never pushed her or questioned it. There was something about Felicity that drew him to her, but he didn't need to be a genius to figure out her heart was elsewhere, but recently, so had her mind.

She glanced over her shoulder before she turned and picked up the newspaper she had purchased on her way to work when the headline had caught her eye. She shoved the stack of papers at her boss and he took them in his large hand before looking down and turning the paper so he could read it in the right direction.

The headline read in bold letters: "Oliver Queen Missing, Again. Presumed Dead, Again."

Ray glanced up at her, "Felicity," he said her name softly, apologetically. She shook her head and waved him off as she began to stare out the window again. Thea had decided a week ago to announce that her brother had gone missing mysteriously. Captain Lance had understood what that meant immediately and had contacted Felicity with his condolences.

"Has he been missing for two months?" Ray continued to talk even though Felicity still did not look at him, just staring out at the city below her, the city she helped to protect, "All this time and you haven't said anything? I could've been helping you find him."

She let out a humorless chuckle, "not even you can find him Ray."

She left her office and Ray didn't follow her.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

It's dark when they leave the cave. Oliver is still too weak to make the trek down the mountain so he is strapped to the woman's sled once again. They are silent for the journey, the moon glowing down on them, and Oliver wonders what time it is in Starling City, what Felicity is doing, if Diggle and Roy are still patrolling as The Arrow and Arsenal.

"You still haven't told me your name." Oliver spoke suddenly, in an attempt to distract himself from his thoughts of Felicity and his family back home.

He saw the back of her head move in a single nod, which seemed to be a habit of hers, she didn't exaggerate any of her movements, they were all direct and to-the-point. "It is not important."

"How can I trust someone I do not know the name of?" Oliver countered, his thoughts of Ray Palmer had put an edge to his mood and made him want to challenge her, to be more aggressive in his attempt to gain information than he normally would have been.

A corner of her red mouth curled upward, unbeknownst to Oliver, "you should not trust me."

"Right now, you're my only hope of survival." He responded quickly, "and you've already saved my life once."

She glanced over her shoulder at him as the wind blew her dark hair around her face. "Talia. My name is Talia."

"Nice to meet you Talia."

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

When Thea finds her, she is sitting in the foundry, alone, with the lamp on her desk the only light in the entire room. It's three in the morning and the club had just closed for the night and Thea had retreated downstairs to think.

Over the past two weeks since she'd learned of her brother's secret and death she had kept up appearances with her father. To the best of her ability she had made it seem like she was still whole-heartedly loyal to him, even though her heart no longer felt the same ardor for her father any longer. She'd also made a missing persons report to the SCPD, telling them that her brother had mysteriously disappeared.

"It's late, shouldn't you be asleep? Or at least at home." Thea said, leaning her hip against Felicity's desk.

The blonde's eyes had a faraway look to them, but at the sound of Thea's voice they snapped up to the brunette's face. "I haven't been home in over a month."

"Where do you sleep?" Thea asked. Felicity's eyes cast around the room in answer. "Here?" Thea asked.

"I feel closer to him here," Felicity whispered, her eyes misty. She glanced away, laying a hand over her mouth, as she stared at the blank screens of her monitors.

Thea placed a hand on the older woman's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Did you love him?"

"Yes," Felicity whispered, "and know, that if I could have stopped him, if there had been some way to save his life, I would have."

"I believe you," Thea said before she pulled up another chair and sat down. Felicity turned her chair so she was facing the younger Queen sibling, her gaze questioning. The two women, before Oliver's death, had never spent much time together. They'd met briefly at functions where she was Oliver's assistant, they'd made small talk at parties or when they'd run into each other at Verdant, but they'd never truly spoken like they had now. Oliver's death had united them as teammates and friends.

Felicity pushed herself out of her seat suddenly, rising to her feet with much more grace than she would have done before Oliver died. While ultimately his death had brought her misery and heartbreak, there were some positive things that had come out of it. She was stronger, more independent. Thea was no longer ignorant of her brother's second life, and Roy was able to more easily keep an eye on her. And that was really where the list of positives ended.

"Are you up for a spar?" Felicity asked as she reached the training mats and then turned to face Thea.

"You want to spar with _me_? I killed Sara and don't even remember it. I've been trained by Malcolm Merlyn. You have no reason to trust me."

"Call it an exorcism of demons through healthy means. You're not going to kill me Thea. You were drugged, your father was using you as a pawn to save his own skin. And you're Oliver's sister. His blood is running through your veins, so I trust you."

Thea's was silent and hesitated for a moment more before she was on her feet and approaching the training mats where Felicity waited.

"I can't hate him completely." Felicity knew without Thea having to elaborate that she meant Merlyn, "I hate him for what he did, but I can't hate him for training me, for showing me how to be stronger, for being the one person in my life who wasn't lying to me." She grimaced suddenly, "but I guess he was lying to me. Ultimately."

"And that's why I can't hate your brother even though he spent months pushing me away, then gave me a seed of hope which he crushed, and then died."

Thea nodded as the two women faced off on the mat. They clashed, hands going for each others throat in a lock up before Felicity ducked a shoulder under and slammed it into Thea's gut, getting the younger woman to let her go. Felicity danced away, out of Thea's reach, her eyes narrowing as she eyed up her opponent.

"What are we going to do about your father?" Felicity asked.

Thea's hand struck out, but Felicity blocked it with a forearm, her leg sweeping out to knock Thea off balance. The brunette kicked the blonde's leg away and swung her other fist, catching Felicity slightly off guard. Her fist clipped the curve of Felicity's cheek as the blond ducked away, wrapping her arms around Thea's waist and throwing the younger woman to the ground.

Thea rolled out of the way before Felicity could land a kick, then she was back on her feet and they were stalking each other once more.

"We tell the League who really killed Sara." Thea responded, her breathing labored.

This time Felicity struck, aiming a kick for Thea's head which the woman caught with a smirk. Felicity just smirked in return as her body continued through the rotation, her other leg coming up to complete the kick. Thea fell to the mat and rolled away, but wasn't quick enough to right herself again before Felicity was on her, locking an arm around her neck.

"I fail to see how telling the League you killed Sara will get us anywhere." Felicity said before hissing, "tap."

"No." Thea wedged her hand between her neck and Felicity's arm, and reached out with her legs to lock them around Felicity's midsection, "I was just the weapon. My father killed Sara, just like the League suspected."

Felicity let go of Thea's neck to try and pry the girls legs from around her waist but Thea just flipped them over so Felicity's shoulders were flat on the mat. "1...2..."

Felicity's shoulder's lifted, using all the strength in her core to raise herself up in time to grab Thea's arm and twist it painfully behind her back.

"So we tell them Merlyn was the one wielding the murder weapon?" Felicity said and Thea gave a sharp nod.

The girl quickly loosened the grip she had on the blond and Felicity did as well, both women rising to their feet and staring at each other.

"The only problem is I don't know how to contact the League," Thea commented, tossing her head back to move her short hair out of her eyes.

Felicity's eyes turned to her purse where she had stashed away the piece of parchment Nyssa had left her.

"But I do." Felicity said, her blue eyes meeting Thea's gaze.

"Draw?"

"Draw."

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

It's in the midst of chasing the grunt of a arms dealer that Felicity sees the blond hair and black leather that makes her stop in her tracks suddenly.

The man she'd been chasing is immediately flipped onto his back by the woman, who suddenly has her bo staff at his throat.

"Crap." Felicity muttered under her breath.

"What?" Diggle asked through the comm link, his breathing heavy from his own fight which he had just finished.

"Laurel is here."

"Damn." Diggle muttered, understanding immediately.

Felicity suddenly had no time for talking because Laurel was pulling a knife from her boot and aiming to swipe the blade across the man's throat.

Felicity's bow was drawn and expanded within a second, an arrow knocked and then released within a breath. The arrow struck Laurel's knife, knocking it out of the woman's hand.

Laurel's eyes turned on Felicity, anger clearly visible.

Before Felicity could even explain herself, Laurel was charging at her. Felicity caught the woman in a chokehold, arms hooked around Laurel's and hands locked behind her neck in an attempt to subdue her, but the other woman fought her way out, throwing Felicity off her feet.

Rolling away quickly from the downward stroke of a bo staff, Felicity was back on her feet and turning to face Laurel. She hooked her bow onto her back and held her hands up in front of her. She couldn't talk her way out of this fight now.

"Who are you?" Laurel questioned, her voice frantic and angry.

Felicity didn't respond, just sidestepped a heavy-handed punch that was aimed at her. She quickly reached up, locking her arms around Laurel's wrist and holding it immobile and then, as if she was running through her circuit in the Wing Chun dummy his several well placed jabs at Laurel's midsection. The woman gasped in pain before stumbling back, holding her torso.

Felicity saw Laurel draw a blade from her boot and sighed inwardly before reaching behind her, one hand reaching for her bow, the other for an arrow.

With the bowstring pulled taut she stared levelly at Laurel who had brass knuckles wrapped around her left hand, and a knife in the other.

"I'm sorry about this," Felicity said before letting the arrow fly. A wire shot out of the arrowhead, wrapping tightly around Laurel, binding her arms to her chest. "And this," Felicity added as she fired another arrow at the ground in front of Laurel's feet, the arrowhead exploding in a smoky cloud of knockout gas.

Covering her mouth and nose Felicity retreated down the street to call Diggle and fill him in on the situation.

"I'll take her home," Diggle said.

"Thanks Digg." And then they signed off on the comms. Felicity pulled her hood back, running her hands over the top of her head and then through the end of her ponytail.

"You have become quite the warrior."

She turned suddenly, spotting a figure about ten feet from her, half in the shadows of a building.

"Who are you?" She asked, drawing her bow and aiming it at the figure.

A man stepped out of the shadows, holding his hands up in a sign of compliance. When the shaft of light given off by the streetlamp illuminated his face, recognition dawned on Felicity's features.

"You're from the League. You came with Nyssa."

"Yes. Nyssa sent me, she said you contacted her, that you have information about the death of Ta-er al-Saher."

"I did contact her. And I do have information."

"In exchange for your information I have a gift. From Nyssa."

"Should I go first?" Felicity asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Please." He nodded for her to continue.

"Oliver did not kill Sara," she began and the man nodded as if he already knew this, "but I know who did," she paused taking a breath and gathering her courage, "the League was right to assume Malcolm Merlyn was to blame."

The man's shoulders straightened immediately at the mention of the former League member.

"Oliver knew Merlyn was the cause of Sara's death."

"Then why did he give himself over to the demon?" The man questioned, tilting his head to the side.

"Merlyn used Oliver's sister as a bargaining chip. Merlyn used Thea Queen as the murder weapon." She didn't expand past that, "Thea was drugged and unaware of her actions, just a mindless weapon—a bow—that Merlyn used. Oliver knew he would not be able to explain this to Ra's al Ghul and in an attempt to save his sister's life and stop Merlyn from telling the League that Thea was Sara's murderer, Oliver claimed to be her killer instead because he felt he had a chance of killing the Demon."

"As did Merlyn, or he would not have put so much faith in this plan." The man added and Felicity nodded.

"Yes. But it failed." She said, her voice unexpectedly harsh and stony.

The man did not reply to that statement, but instead asked, "May I retrieve something from behind my back?"

"Sure." She shrugged slightly, still holding her bow up with an arrow at the ready.

He reached behind him, pulling a burlap bag off his shoulders and then a sword, which had been strapped between his shoulder blades.

Felicity eyed him distrustfully. "Why do you have a sword?"

"It is part of your gift. It is tradition for the widow of a slain challenger to be gifted with the weapon that took their beloved's life."

Felicity didn't know how to respond to that. Nyssa, and the League, considered her to be Oliver's widow? Was it that obvious to everyone else that they were in love with each other? Also, it was a really strange and morbid tradition, what was she supposed to do with Oliver's murder weapon?

Without another word he carried the sword to her, holding it balanced across his upturned palms. He bowed slightly as he came within reach of her, holding the blade out.

Felicity stared at him for a long moment, her arrow still trained on him. After several moments her shoulder relaxed and she slid the arrow back into her quiver and slung her bow over her shoulder. Then she took the sword from his hands.

"This is the sword Ra's al Ghul used to kill Oliver?" She asked, sliding her hand along the sheath before closing her fist around it.

"Pierced him through his left lung." He said in answer.

She grimaced slightly, unsheathing the blade, light bouncing off the steel. It was clean, gleaming back at her brightly.

"I washed the blade of Oliver's blood."

"Thank you," she said softly. She didn't know if she could have taken seeing his dried blood on the blade. She didn't need more proof that Oliver was missing from her life, entering the empty foundry and seeing the unused salmon ladder was hard enough for her.

"And these are his personal affects," the Asian man said, handing her the burlap bag. She took it as well and stared at him. She was still trying to decide why Nyssa had sent this man instead of coming herself.

"What do you expect me to do with the sword that killed Oliver?" She couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside of her suddenly.

"Learn to wield it." The man replied simply, as if the answer was obvious.

"But I use a bow." She replied dumbly, stubbornly.

"It is never a bad thing to know how to wield more than one type of weapon." The man pointed out with a wry smile, like she had impressed him in some way, and he was happy she had.

He had a point, but Felicity didn't want to concede as much out loud so she just nodded.

"What is your name?" She asked suddenly as the man began to turn to leave.

He stopped halfway, the front of his body facing away from her but he turned his head, his dark eyes meeting hers, "The League knows me as Sarab." He paused, "Oliver Queen knows me as Maseo."

"Nice to meet you Maseo. I'm Felicity Smoak." She was certain he already knew that, she vaguely remembered Nyssa using her name when she had come to deliver the news of Oliver's death, but she decided it didn't hurt to reinforce the point.

Maseo nodded, and yes, he already knew her name, she was definitely certain now.

"Oliver was a good man, Felicity Smoak."

"I know." She swallowed thickly, "that's why I loved him."

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"It must be nice to see the sun again, Oliver Queen."

He stared up at her, wide-eyed.

"How do you feel?"

At the question he finally took stock in his own physical condition. He clenched and unclenched his fist without any pain in the tendons in his arm, he breathed deeply and there was no pain in his chest, he reached up and felt the puncture wound on his chest, the skin was closed, there wasn't even a bandage over it.

He pulled away the parka Talia had dressed him in and stared down at the skin of his chest. Where a thick pink stripe of new skin should have raised on his skin, there was only smoothness and even pigment. It made absolutely no sense, but there was no scar from the wound that had killed him. Oliver was still in disbelief. His fingers traced the area before he glanced up at Talia.

"How did I survive? I should be dead."

"This is the mystery and the gift of the Lazarus pit. It is how Ra's al Ghul has lived his long life." Talia explained.

"I don't understand." He said.

"I do not know the workings of the pit. I just know that it brings back the dead, and revives the near dead. But I have seen it deny some it's powers, be grateful it chose to heal you Oliver Queen."

"Why did you bring me to the pit?"

"I thought you knew why. I need you in order to spite Ra's al Ghul." She smiled wryly at him.

"But why? Why do you want to make a fool of the Demon?" He questioned, brows furrowed as he tried to decipher this woman's goals.

"Because the Demon once made a fool of me. And a daughter never forgets the embarrassment of her father's rejection."

The sun was blindingly bright as it shone over her shoulder and into his eyes, but suddenly it was all clear.

"I will bring you home Oliver Queen, and then you will help me kill Ra's al Ghul."

* * *

_These bright lights have always blinded me_

_These bright lights have always blinded me_

_I say_

* * *

So... a lot happened here, leave a review to let me know what you think!

Also, to those of you who celebrate: Merry Christmas! If you don't, then I just hope you have a really great day. Part IV probably won't be up until after the 25th. xo


	4. Part IV

So here is Part IV. Finally, the reunion scene you've all been waiting for since you probably opened this fic!

Throughout this fic I've been trying really hard to give Felicity sincere moments with all of the people who have shaped Oliver into the hero he is and I realized I hadn't used Roy to the best of my ability. So, she gets one of her scenes with him here as well as Thea. I do really enjoy the Felicity/Roy dynamic and really hope the show expands on their friendship. Until then, I shall do so.

Only one more installment after this (Part V). This chapter concludes Oliver's journey back, however, Felicity's journey toward being the strongest version of herself is not over yet.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas! Enjoy this chapter

xoxoxoNelly

* * *

_I see you lying next to me _

_With words I thought I'd never speak _

_Awake and unafraid _

_Asleep or dead_

* * *

"You're getting better," Thea said, smiling proudly at Felicity from where she stood on the opposite side of the training mat, sheathing her sword at her waist.

Felicity did the same with her own blade—the Demon's blade that had taken Oliver's life. Despite how morbid and wrong it seemed, she had a strange sort of attachment to the weapon. Ever since Maseo had given it to her, she had devoted all of her free time to learning how to properly wield it. And she had a lot of free time, as did Thea, who had been her primary teacher seeing as Diggle's knowledge of swords was pretty non-existent, Roy's even more so.

"I feel better at it," Felicity said, setting the sword in it's case, next to her compact bow.

"Felicity, we need to talk." Laurel's voice was suddenly booming down the staircase of the foundry.

"And we really need to change the combination for that lock," Roy muttered from where he sat sharpening his arrowheads. Diggle glanced up at the younger man, probably to give Roy a stern look, but ultimately he ended up shrugging in agreement.

Felicity shook her head at her teammates as she turned to Laurel. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Thea step forward to stand just behind her shoulder as Laurel came to a stop in front of her, her blue eyes fixed on Thea with annoyance clearly written on her features.

Felicity turned and placed a hand on Thea's shoulder, "hit the showers Speedy, I've got this."

Thea's face softened at the nickname and she nodded before disappearing into the foundry's bathroom.

Turning back to Laurel, Felicity raised her eyebrows in question, "and what is it we need to talk about?"

"That stunt you pulled a couple of weeks ago."

"You mean when I stopped you from killing a petty criminal." Felicity raised both her eyebrows incredulously, she couldn't understand why Laurel would be angry at her for _that_.

"He was a criminal all the same." Laurel countered but Felicity looked nonplussed by her argument.

"What gives you the right to play God?" Felicity shot back, holding her arms out, talking with her hands again.

"Oliver did the same thing once." Laurel shot back, a purposeful low blow, but it didn't deter Felicity.

"Until he realized it was the wrong way. You may not understand it now Laurel, but taking lives is taxing on ones own mind and soul. You're not a bad person Laurel, you're not a killer."

"But I am." Laurel said dourly and Felicity narrowed her eyes at the woman.

"You're not honoring your sister's memory this way, or Oliver's. You're being selfish, trying to heal your own hurt by hurting others. You're doing nothing but killing yourself with this self-destructive behavior. My team was created in order to protect this city, and right now, you're a danger to it. So I am going to ask you to cease your recent habits or the Arrow will have to intervene." Felicity's eyes were flashing dangerously, "and don't enter this foundry ever again unless you are specifically invited in by one of us."

Laurel stared shocked at the blond before turned and retreating up the steps, her chin held high, but her tail between her legs.

"And that's why you're obviously our leader," Roy said from his seat where he was still sharpening his arrowheads.

"Exactly," Diggle agreed with a nod.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

She started seeing him. She wasn't sure what brought the hallucinations on, but she began to see Oliver.

He would run around corners as she passed them while on patrol. Or as she walked through the throngs of people enjoying Verdant she would see him slip between bodies. She would wake up on his cot in the foundry and see him rising up the salmon ladder.

But he was never really there, and she could never really bring herself to tell anyone else that she thought she was finally going crazy.

Then, one night when she was amidst a dream of blood and tears and snow, a hand on her arm rose her from the darkness.

Felicity shot up in bed, breathing heavily, eyes wide, hair wild.

"Felicity, you okay?" Roy's voice was surprisingly steady as his hand slid from her arm to her shoulder.

She turned to look at Roy, their eyes meeting between them. Since they had received the news of Oliver's death Roy and Felicity had formed an intense bond, a invaluable friendship. They understood each other in ways that Diggle or Thea could not, and they never had to use words to communicate those things to each other.

Her throat was dry, her voice hoarse when she spoke, "just a nightmare."

"I know," Roy replied softly before leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers, "tell me about it."

"I dreamed I killed Oliver again," she whispered. Roy nodded, remembering his own nightmares where he had dreamed of killing Sara.

"It wasn't you, Felicity." He whispered, both of them closing her eyes.

She nodded, "I know, _I know_." She sucked in a breath through her teeth and grasped Roy's biceps, "I miss him Roy. He told me he loved me and I didn't say anything back." There were tears now, rolling down her cheeks.

Roy wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest, tears of his own silently falling as he tucked her beneath his chin.

He didn't assure her that things would be okay, because there was no way to guarantee that. Instead, he just held her in the darkened foundry until her breathing evened out.

Then, he brewed her some of Oliver's tea and lit a few candles and together they meditated silently until the sun rose and Diggle came into the foundry with coffee and bagels.

She didn't have to say thank you out loud, the look in her eyes when she met Roy's gaze conveyed all of her gratitude without uttering a single syllable.

And that was how he supported his leader, who he would follow into death.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"You're Ra's al Ghul's daughter." Oliver had been mulling over Talia's words for days now, since their journey to their new location—which wasn't a cave but a small hut in a tiny village on the snowy mountainside. No one disturbed them there but somehow they had fresh food at their doorstep every other morning, so someone knew they were there.

"Yes." She replied from where she was stirring together a stew.

"Younger than Nyssa?" He asked and she nodded.

"Yes, as the oldest child, she is the heir. My father has unfortunately only been blessed by daughters in his long life." There was a hint of sarcasm to her voice that made Oliver grin wryly.

"How old is he?"

"Old." She replied, and at Oliver's annoyed glare she sighed, "it is hard to tell," she explained, "there are stories that he is centuries old, but no one knows the exact date of his birth."

"And the Lazarus pit is what has kept him alive all these years."

"Yes, without it, he would be but a pile of dust." She poured half of the stew into a bowl which she handed to him, and then she took the other half of the stew for herself.

"How did you know about Felicity?" He asked, he'd been dying to learn the answer to that question since she had brought his blonde teammate up, but he'd been biding his time until he trusted her enough and felt she was open enough to respond honestly.

"You are chatty today Oliver Queen." She quipped, a corner of her mouth quirking upward before she schooled her features again.

"Answer the question," he growled.

"Like I said, I have a friend who has been in contact with your Felicity."

"Nyssa?" He asked, it was the only name he could come up with. He didn't know who else Talia was in contact with besides her sister.

"Yes and no. While there is no ill-will between my sister and I—and she has been to see your Felicity—she is not the friend I speak of."

"Then who?" Oliver asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Her dark eyes fell on him, "Maseo. He is the one who told me of you, that you were being forced to face my father unjustly for a crime you did not commit. He told me of how he knew you before he came to the League."

Oliver was surprised, this was the most she had spoken since they had met. Before he could question her any further she turned her gaze to the starry sky visible through their glassless window.

"He is the reason I chose to take you to the pit. You owe him your life."

Many times over.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"So the League knows it was Merlyn's doing?" Diggle asked Felicity as they sat across from each other, a meal of Big Belly Burger between them. Both Thea and Roy were upstairs working at Verdant for the night, and there were no pressing emergencies that required the Arrow's attention, so they were left to themselves. Felicity had told Diggle to go home to his fiance and daughter but he had said that they hadn't had any time alone together to talk in too long and that needed to change.

"They do. I'm waiting to receive word about a plan to bring him to justice." Felicity replied before taking a sip of her drink. "But Nyssa hasn't contacted me yet."

"And Thea hasn't given anything away to Merlyn?"

"She seems to think he's pretty clueless but he's smarter than we've all anticipated, and more resourceful. I wouldn't be surprised if he already knew we had contacted the League."

"Then how are we still alive?"

"That I do not know," she replied with a heavy sigh.

They were silent for several moments before Diggle spoke again, changing the subject, "people have started to take notice of the Arrow's new partner, you know."

"They have?" She asked, arching a brow.

"You mean, you haven't seen the posts online?" Diggle looked incredulous.

"I've been a little busy Diggle. Fighting crime, secretly meeting assassins and the like. I haven't been able to catch up on the latest Arrow gossip." She joked dryly.

"They're calling you Artemis."

"Like the Greek goddess of the hunt and virginity?" Felicity's brows furrowed.

"That would be the one."

"I guess it could be worse." She muttered, "like a play on Arrow—Arrowette or something completely un-terrifying like that."

Diggle laughed and Felicity smiled and it felt just like old times, except it wasn't. And when Diggle left the foundry to go home to his family, Felicity was left alone, without hers.

Except the vision of Oliver, which stood at the end of her bed, bleeding from a puncture wound in his left pectoral. His blue eyes were hollowed out and haunted, his skin pale. She woke from nightmares nearly every hour and eventually gave up.

With tea and candles she waited for the sun to rise and a new day to begin.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

They left the village after two weeks. Oliver could walk on his own once more, but only over short differences. Walking just a few yards would leave him out of breath and shaking from exhaustion.

"How does your father recuperate so fast from this?" He asked Talia as he sat down on the seat of the jet that would be taking them back to Starling City.

"He doesn't. My father is mostly heard, rarely seen." She sat across the aisle from him, "now you know the secret, it is easy to see why. He is a very mystery figure to the League, but one that is greatly respected and feared. His reputation precedes him, he rarely needs to reinforce it."

Oliver nods in understanding before glancing out the window at the shoddy airstrip below them.

"You should sleep Oliver Queen, you will need your strength for when we arrive in Starling City."

Oliver nodded once more and then closed his eyes. He did not fall asleep, but dreams of Felicity filled his mind as the jet lifted into the air and then carried him home. To Felicity.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"I've got the sidekick," Felicity spoke into her comm unit as she raced down an alley way. A bullet whizzed past her head as the man she had been following suddenly whipped around and fired without aiming first. Rookie.

She ducked behind a dumpster as he shot at her again and she observed her surroundings. The man was standing just below a fire escape and she smirked at her luck. Pulling the bow from where it was strapped to her back she knocked an arrow and aimed it at the lock that was holding the ladder in an upright position. She waited until the man fired another bullet so that the sound of the gun would mask the sound of the arrow striking the clasp.

Her plan worked successfully, the ladder dropping down onto the sidekick's head and knocking him straight off his feet.

Felicity ran out from behind the dumpster, pulling out the pair of cuffs she kept attached to her utility belt. After securing the criminal she phoned Captain Lance to let him know the pick-up site.

"All clear on my end," Felicity said into her comm unit.

"Return to the foundry. Roy and I are already here." Diggle said.

"You don't have to wait for me. Head home to Lyla and the baby. Tell Roy he needs to get some sleep."

"You sure?"

"Certain. Get some rest Digg."

"You too 'Licity. Try to sleep."

She didn't respond, just clicked off the comm link and started to jog back toward the foundry. She was only a few blocks out and she stuck to the shadows as she ran.

Coming in through the back entrance of the foundry she unzipped the back of her mask, letting the fabric collect at her neck, and shaking her hair out of it's pony tail.

Suddenly, she froze as the sound of another person's breathing reached her ears. She stepped backward into the shadow of a large shelving unit of arrows. She slipped her mask back into place soundlessly, her skin pricking at the sensation of not being alone.

She inched closer to the person, who was seated at her desk, moving only in shadows. She decided against using her bow because she couldn't tell what direction the person was facing in the dark, and she wasn't the most excellent shot to begin with.

She was close, but the person was still shadowed and she couldn't make them out, but they were trespassing. If it had been one of her teammates they would have said something by now.

She had practiced unsheathing her sword silently many times and executed it perfectly in that moment, drawing the blade out before her. In a flash she was next to the intruder, her blade a silver arc pressed tightly against their throat as she turned the chair and bathed the person in light.

"_Felicity_."

Felicity froze at the sound of her name, it was a voice she thought she'd never hear again, a voice she had begun to forget the pitch and timbre of as the months wore on. She stared down at him as he stared up at her.

The woman before him, with a sword pressed to his throat was not his Felicity. This was not the soft, vibrant woman he had kissed on the temple the day he left to fight Ra's al Ghul. No, this Felicity hid beneath the facade of his Felicity, but there was an underlying danger to her, power and ferocity lay hidden in her tensed muscles, a hard glint in her eyes that was not there before.

Her hand shook, and the blade pressed to his throat trembled, chafing his skin but he didn't say a word and she didn't move.

"Oliver."

Hearing his name leave her lips was like heaven and he closed his eyes to savor the sound, to record it in his memories and keep it with him forever to replay in lonely moments where he felt lost or defeated.

Suddenly, the blade was gone and he heard it slide into it's sheath. Then Felicity was standing directly in front of him, her hand's shaking as she reached out toward him. He didn't speak as her fingers slid the buttons of his shirt apart and then moved the two ends of fabric aside.

Her finger pressed against the skin of his left pectoral, blue eyes wide, "where's the scar?" She asked in a whisper, "he said Ra's punctured your left lung," she was no longer touching him, suddenly she was several feet away, "he killed you with this sword," she threw the weapon onto the ground at his feet and stared at him.

She shook her head, "you're not real."

And then she walked away from him.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

Never before had one of her hallucinations been so real. Never before had they made sounds or said her name or _felt_ solid.

This one was different. She had truly lost it. She had quit Palmer Industries, been dubbed Artemis, made a pact with the heir to the Demon that sentenced Malcolm Merlyn to his death, and ordered Thea a suit to complete her transformation into the vigilante Speedy. She was insane, obviously.

There was a shuffling followed by a thud that caused her to turn back to where her hallucination had been sitting in her office chair.

He was trying to walk—stumbling really, her imagination must be running low on fuel due to her lack of sleep—but was leaning heavily on her desk, having knocked a file of papers onto the floor. Now he was staring angrily at the papers as if he couldn't lean over and pick them up. Which he couldn't because he wasn't real and unreal things couldn't pick up real things.

Ignoring her hallucination she unzipped her suit, stepping out of it, opening the glass case where it was kept and hanging it up on the glass mannequin.

A strangled sound left the hallucination, but she didn't turn to give it any type of reaction, she just changed back into a pair of yoga pants and one of Oliver's button ups that she slept in at the foundry.

"Felicity."

There was her name again.

"You're not real." She replied in an annoyed monotone. Talking to yourself was another sign of insanity. She was certifiable. She'd tell Digg in the morning to commit her.

Suddenly a hand enclosed her wrist and spun her around, "I am real," he said, his blue eyes staring into hers, his body emanating heat, his breaths leaving him heavily, like walking the short distance from her desk to her cot had taken all of his energy.

She glanced down at her wrist where his hot hand was holding her.

His other hand cupped her cheek before he leaned into her and pressed his lips to her forehead. Heat spread through her from the crown of her head to her toes.

She reached out, her hands sliding along his torso, squeezing experimentally to test his density. It felt like Oliver, it sounded like Oliver, it smelt like Oliver. But was it really real? Or was it all just an incredibly sensationalized dream. Maybe her imagination wasn't as run down as she thought, maybe it still had some life left in it.

"I don't know how to tell if it's really you or if I'm just going crazy," she confessed quietly against his neck.

"I'm real," he whispered, dropping his head so his forehead pressed to hers, "I'm alive."

She flattened her palm against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the layers of skin and muscle. She choked on her breath, "you're dead."

He sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. "Sleep Felicity, you're exhausted."

"I know," she whispered, "but I can't because you haunt me. I wake up and all I see is Ra's sword plunging through your chest. Sometimes it's not even Ra's doing it, but Thea, or Merlyn or-or _me_."

Mustering what little strength he had left he picked her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest. In her half-awake state she began to realize she can't hallucinate something like that, but Oliver just whispered to her once more, "sleep," and she closed her eyes.

He laid her on his cot and silently watched her for several minutes, regaining his breath and strength. After some time, there was a sound of shifting fabric as Talia came for him and helped him out of the foundry and to the motel where they were staying.

"You will return in the morning to see her." Talia said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. She could tell even without words that he did not receive the hero's welcome they expected.

"She thinks I'm a hallucination," he whispered.

"You must remember, you have been dead to her for four months, Oliver Queen. We have kept your survival a secret, because if anyone knew, Ra's would come to kill you. It will take time for her to come to terms with the fact that you are alive, just as it took time for her to come to terms with the fact that you were dead. If you love her, you will give her time."

Oliver already knew, he was willing to give Felicity _everything_.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

"You look like hell," Roy said as he handed Felicity her morning coffee.

"Right back at ya pretty boy," Felicity muttered, "but thank you for the coffee."

"I'm guessing you didn't sleep well," Diggle said, giving Felicity a stern disapproving look.

"Another Oliver nightmare, what can I say." She shrugged, holding out her arms innocently.

Thea glanced up at the blonde, a worried expression on her face but before she could voice her concerns the beeping of the door's code being put in sounded. The team was immediately tense, all of them standing from there seats.

"Dammit, if that's Laurel again, I'm going to..." Felicity's words died in her throat as the door opened and Oliver walked in, leaning heavily on a dark haired woman, Maseo following after them and shutting the foundry door.

"It was real," Felicity whispered and then she was on her feet, climbing the staircase as quickly as possible.

The dark haired woman let go of Oliver just before Felicity crashed into him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck.

One of Oliver's hands reached out for the railing, steadying himself, while the other curled around Felicity's back, his face turning into her hair, inhaling her scent deeply.

"You were real." She whispered, "you were really here last night." She cursed softly, tucking her chin into her chest, "I'm sorry, you must think I'm losing my mind, that I've gone completely off the deep end. I was not being myself last night, I've just been so sleep deprived lately, because I get these nightmares where I see you dying, and some nights I wake up holding the sword that Maseo said killed you and—

During her ramble, Oliver had tucked a hand under her chin, lifting her face upward before tracing his thumb along her bottom lip, effectively stopping the avalanche of words that were falling from her lips.

"Felicity," he breathed her name, trying to sound exasperated, but only a smile came through as his mouth lifted at the edges.

Her eyes were large and watery as she stared up at him, "I love you. That is the one thing I know for sure, after all that's happened. And second, I should have told you that before you left to face Ra's al Ghul."

Oliver's expression softened and he pulled her into him again, tucking her head beneath his chin, trying to reign in his emotions. Love, sadness, regret, anger, frustration, and concern were all running rampant in his chest but he held them all at bay as he embraced Felicity and proved to her he was not a figment of her imagination this time.

He wanted to kiss her, to pull her into his arms and claim her mouth as his. He wanted to prove to her just how much he loved her, show her how much he'd missed her, to promise her he'll never leave her like that again. But he restrained himself, he didn't want to do all of those things in front of his team and members of the League. He wanted to do all of those things in private, where he didn't have to worry about prying eyes, where he could lay himself bare for her eyes only.

"Oliver Queen," Talia's voice sounded behind him and he knew he needed to address his friends and family.

Reluctantly he pulled back from Felicity, holding her at arm's length and then glancing over his shoulder at Talia and Maseo. Then he shifted his gaze to his team, which had expanded since he left.

"Thea," he said, sounding surprised, his eyes turning to Felicity. She pressed her mouth into a thin line and nodded.

He cleared his throat and leaned more heavily on the railing, "will you help me down the stairs," he asked with his head down. When he glanced up through his lashes Felicity looked surprised, but she nodded and then pulled his arm around her shoulders and she helped him down, moving slowly.

At the bottom of the steps, he removed his arm from her shoulders and walked over to the table in the center of the foundry on his own. Thea met him at the end of the table, her arms wrapping around her brother, happy tears on her cheek. Roy smiled easily and Diggle patted his shoulder.

Felicity wearily led Talia and Maseo over to the table as Thea helped Oliver into a seat. Thea and Roy sat down while Diggle and Felicity pulled up three extra chairs. As things settled, all eyes quickly fell on Oliver.

"Not to sound incredibly happy and grateful, but how are you alive, boss?" Diggle asked, the happiness in his gaze apparent.

A corner of Oliver's mouth tilted upward, "it's a long story."

Thea, Felicity and Roy all exchanged glances before Roy turned back to his mentor and brother, "we have plenty of time."

Oliver nodded before glancing to his right where Talia was seated, Maseo standing behind her shoulder, shaking his head when Felicity offered him a chair. The dark-eyed woman nodded once when she met Oliver's gaze, permission for him to tell the full, unabridged story, Lazarus pit and all. Then he began to speak, slowly, because sometimes talking for too long still drained him, but he covered every day of his four month long absence. The days he had spent dying and dead on the mountaintop. The four day long journey down the mountain to the Lazarus pit. The two and a half weeks he spent in and out of consciousness after he'd been taken out of the pit. Followed then by weeks and weeks of recuperation and travel to the village, the few weeks they'd spent in the village, and then the past few days of leaving the village and coming to Starling City.

Still, after all this time, he was not his complete self, but with each glance he took at Felicity, where she smiled at him—a smile of relief—he felt the pieces of himself begin to pull together again into a shape resembling his own. And he smiled, truly smiled.

~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~

They spent most of the night asking questions and filling Oliver in on what the team had been doing since he left to face Ra's al Ghul.

He was shocked to learn that Felicity had quit her job at Palmer Industries and instead had been dedicating all of her time to becoming a vigilante—no, a hero—like Oliver was.

Artemis, that is what they were calling her in the papers and police reports and Oliver had to admit the name was befitting of her.

Then, it was revealed to him how Thea had come to join the team, that she was completely aware of how her father had been using her for months.

Felicity quietly told him that the team and Laurel were not currently on speaking terms, giving him a abbreviated version of her past two encounters with the woman. She also told him of how Maseo visited her—now she knew it was on Talia's behalf, not Nyssa's—and gifted her the blade Ra's had used to kill Oliver. Her eyes had flicked at Oliver's neck briefly as she remembered how she had pressed the blade to his skin the night before. Oliver's gaze had softened, and he hoped she understood that he had silently forgiven her. Grief and sleep-deprivation did strange things to the mind—he knew that well—and he could forgive her for her reaction.

Now, he and Felicity stood alone in the foundry. He was leaning on the metal table, Felicity opposite him on the other side, arms at her side, unabashedly surveying him. She was still having trouble accepting that he was truly alive. The shock and awe still evident in her eyes told him just how deeply she believed she had lost him. She had lost her hope, over him.

When her eyes met his again she sighed, "there's still so much we have to talk about." She reached up, tugging the band out of her hair and shaking out the blond strands around her shoulders. "We've been plotting to hand over Malcolm Merlyn to the League, and you're in cahoots with Talia to kill Ra's al Ghul—the man we're hoping will kill Merlyn. Obviously both of our plans can't work."

"We'll figure something out," Oliver said, his eyes intent on her. When she noticed his stare her cheeks tinted slightly and he couldn't help the soft smile that curled his lips. There was his Felicity, the one he knew, the one he could predict, the one he loved whole-heartedly.

He loved this new Felicity as well—the Felicity with an edge of steel, an understanding for the gravity of their situation, Felicity the Survivor who had picked herself up after his death and carried on. He knew she was stronger than himself, and now he had proof of just how much stronger she was. She was incredible. He wanted to tell her this.

But the words stuck on his tongue and refused to leave his lips, aggravating him slightly. He shut his eyes for a long moment.

"Felicity," he murmured softly before opening his eyes to find her standing at his shoulder. He turned his body toward hers, "I spent these past four months hoping against all odds that I would make it back to you. And now I have."

She smiled tenderly as his hand lifted and cupped her cheek. "I saw you," he whispered, his breath mingling with hers, her blue eyes large and intent on his, "just before I died, you were the last thing I saw, the last thought on my mind before it went dark—it was you."

Her breath stuttered in her chest and he continued, "I've cheated death so many times, I've been reborn as someone else too many times to count. But this time, I feel like I've been given a new life. I've seen what kind of life doesn't work, and I know what not to repeat." His free hand slid to her hip, and suddenly they were turned, Felicity's lower back pressing against the edge of the table.

She tilted her head back to look at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Denying myself the chance to be with you, to protect you, didn't work. I hurt you by dying and I hurt myself. I died without ever knowing what it felt like to kiss you in a way that was not a goodbye. I died without ever hearing you say the words back to me—

Suddenly she had risen on her toes, her mouth hovering next to his, their lips just brushing, "I love you."

He surrounded her immediately, breathing in her words before sealing his mouth over hers, his arm binding around her midsection and tightly pulling her against his body. One of his hands slid into her hair, gripping the blond strands and using them to turn her head to the angle he wanted so he could deepen the kiss. Kissing her was like breathing again, like the moment he opened his eyes in the Lazarus pit alive. There was something ultimately terrifying about the way his heart swelled in his chest and his mind scattered with just a touch of her mouth on his, but it was exhilarating and empowering to know his greatest fear was also his greatest strength.

Felicity was everything, the one thing he could not lose, and the one thing he needed to protect. The adversary of his own stubbornness and ally of his sense of justice. Lover and friend and equal and challenger.

"I love you," he whispered as their mouths parted and he pressed his cheek to hers, holding her to his chest.

He felt her hand slide up his chest, her palm coming to rest over his beating heart. This time, the words were not a goodbye or a ploy, they were a statement, a truth and a vow.

"I love you, too." And her words were a promise, a declaration and a cure.

* * *

_(How can I see, I see you lying) 'Cause I see you lying next to me_

_(How can I see, I see you lying) With words I thought I'd never speak  
(How can I see, I see you lying) Awake and unafraid  
(How can I see, I see you lying) Asleep or dead _

* * *

And there you have it! They're reunited! Now, Team Arrow must decide what they're going to do about Merlyn, Ra's and the League. We'll be seeing a multitude of characters in the final installment, including but not limited to Nyssa al Ghul, Barry Allen and Ray Palmer. If you have any requests as to other characters you'd like to see join Talia's alliance, let me know. Until then, leave a review please! And have a great day!


	5. Part V

Happy New Year everyone! I hope your 2015 has started off well and continues to be amazing. Now, I have a few things to get through

First, I _know_ I said that Part V would be the final part of the fic, and that was the plan when I wrote out my notes for the fic, _buuuut_, as I started writing out Part V the chapter turned into a monster. It was much too long to be one part, so I have decided to split it into to. But Part VI will be the final chapter of this fic.

Secondly, I want to give a huge thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited and reviewed this fic. In the month of December I got over 7,000 views for this fic. Which is incredible! I can't believe the response I've gotten for this fic.

Thirdly, I have been asked if this fic will have a sequel. I'm not certain if it will, but even if I don't write a sequel for this fic, I will be writing more for the Arrow fandom. If I do plan/publish a sequel I will post a note here to let you all know.

Enjoy!

xoxoNelly

* * *

_'Cause I see you lying next to me_

_With words I thought I'd never speak _

_Awake and unafraid_

_Asleep or dead_

* * *

He woke with a start, his body tensed and pulled tight, his heart hammering in his chest and lungs gulping for air. His arms instinctively tightened around the warm body next to him without thought or worry of waking the person up.

He froze and allowed his senses to stretch out into his surroundings, this practice had become a habit during his time in Tibet with Talia. Slowly, realization filtered in that he was not alone in his bed.

He inhaled deeply, and the scent of jasmine and a hint of citrus flooded him and immediately calmed his racing heart. He knew only one person who matched this scent.

Quickly, his memories of the night before drifted back to him. He and Felicity had not wanted to part from each other after being separated for so long—but both had been sleeping poorly for months and knew they would need the rest for the months of turmoil to come. When Oliver suggested he escort her back to her apartment she confessed she hadn't slept in her apartment since a week after he left.

She'd been sleeping in his cot in the foundry for four months and Oliver knew how uncomfortable that bed could be. But, he found himself curled around her in said cot and he had been sleeping rather peacefully until his nightmare had woken him up.

Shifting next to him caused his eyes to open in time to see Felicity's hand at the field of his vision, and then her fingertips were ghosting along his jaw as she whispered, "s'just a dream. Go back to sleep." She said it with such simplicity that he realized immediately that she was used to such an occurrence, that she had been told the same words before in a half-awake state.

A sadness gripped him as he wondered who had been the one to soothe her after nightmares tore her from sleep. Digg? Roy? Thea? But not him.

He hadn't been there for her, she had been in pain for months and he had been unable to assuage her. He tucked his face into her neck, feeling her shiver in a way that was not from the temperature of the foundry. Her hand curled around the back of his head, fingers tucked into his slightly longer hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She sounded more awake than the last time she had spoken.

He let out a long breath, the air gusting out of him and rushing along her neck, causing another shiver.

"I saw Ra's al Ghul kill you. He ran you through with the sword that killed me." He whispered, pulling back just slightly from her neck, but still keeping his face hidden. He refused to tell her the beginning of the nightmare where he begins on Lian Yu and experiences Shado's death once more, hearing his own cries as the gun shot rings out in the forest. Or when he is crouched in the debris and rubble of the Glades, Tommy lying before him, blood leaking out of the puncture wound in his chest as Tommy whispers "murderer" over and over again. Or his mother, crying blood tears from her neck and then Thea with wide, lifeless eyes and a mouth open in a silent scream. Or Sara careening off a rooftop and before he can catch her in time she is a crumpled heap on the pavement, staining the cement permanently red.

All of those moments led up to the final scene, on the mountain top with Ra's, and Felicity being kicked off the edge and falling into a dark abyss before Oliver can catch her hand.

Suddenly, she turned to face him, her hand cupping his cheek. He remained silent as her fingers traced all the features of his face; his furrowed brows, the crease between them, the line of his nose, his stubbled cheeks and strong jaw, the line soft slope of his bottom lip.

She stared at him long and hard before she spoke again, "I'm alive."

"So am I." He replied, his voice quiet and hoarse with emotion.

She cracked a smile that was so much like the Felicity he remembered that he smiled back. "Good, because that's just the way I like you," she said before leaning in and pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss, "now sleep."

And he did.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

When he woke up next, he was alone in bed. However, he could hear Felicity's soft tread on the floor of the foundry, but he kept his eyes closed, enjoying the silence and the simple comfort of a mattress.

"I know you're awake," Felicity's voice sounded from the side of the bed and he opened one eye reluctantly to look at her.

She was smiling and holding out a hand which was curled around the handle of a mug filled with steaming coffee.

He raised his eyebrows at her, at the offering and she just shook the hand she held the coffee in slightly, managing to slosh the liquid over the ledge of the cup and spill it onto the white sheets.

"Fudge!" She yelled, "fudge and crackers!" Quickly she set the mug down and ran over to one of the sets of drawers, finding a rag and quickly swiping at the stain.

Oliver couldn't help the chuckle that left him because while the Felicity he had been greeted with upon his return had been shadowed by his death, and colored in a darkness he felt didn't match her, the Felicity that had just spilled coffee on his bed and used food products as curse words was the woman who he met back at Queen Consolidated all those years ago.

Upon hearing his soft chortle she froze and looked up at him, looking exasperated and curious. Her hair was still down, some of it falling in her eyes due to her half bent over position.

Oliver reached out, his fingers combing through her hair and holding it back as he leaned over the edge of the bed and pulled her mouth to his. She came willingly to him after that, her hands forgetting the rag or the mug and instead clutching onto his shoulders as he pulled her down into his lap. Breathing in Felicity was like breathing in light—regardless of the changes she had made to herself—she was still his strength, and now she was even stronger, and in return he was as well.

"If this is what we're going to walk in on every morning we are seriously going to have to set some ground rules. At least put a sock on the door."

They broke apart gasping for breath, Felicity's cheeks tinted pink and Oliver smirking up at her, not at all embarrassed by the predicament. While before he had wanted complete privacy, now he wanted everyone to know just how devoted he was to this woman, just how much he belonged to her.

He turned his head to look at his two male teammates, "good morning."

Digg shot him a pointed look, and Oliver obediently released Felicity who slid off his lap more gracefully than he expected—though she still stumbled as she stepped away, running into the table placed next to the bed, managing to spill more of his coffee, causing several more colorful food curses to leave her unpainted lips.

As she walked over to Roy and took a bag of what Oliver presumed to be breakfast from them, the two youngest members of the original team shared a look that spoke volumes in a language the Oliver couldn't even understand.

It came to him suddenly, that while he had been away, Roy and Felicity had bonded in his absence. He wasn't sure why this shocked him so much, it made complete sense. But he had always been the one that Roy related to more, but now he could see Roy respected, trusted and understood Felicity, and vice versa, on a plane that Oliver had never reached with the young man.

With a short inhale and exhale he let his shoulders relax, picked up his mug of coffee and joined his teammates as they set out breakfast on the metal table. Diggle placed a hand on his shoulder as he pulled out Oliver's chair, squeezing slightly, telling the man without words that he was glad he was back, that he had missed him and that he was grateful he had survived his ordeal.

Oliver gripped Diggle's arm in return and they shared a look much like Felicity and Roy had—a look where he told Diggle how grateful he was for him looking out for both Felicity and Roy, how much he admired the man for training Felicity, how relieved he was that someone had continued his mission even without him there. Diggle just nodded once and then they both sat down, Felicity and Roy both smiling at them, and they ate together as a family.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

"Ollie!" A voice yelled from across the parking lot. Felicity, Oliver, Digg and Roy all turned just in time to see Laurel run past them and throw herself against Oliver's chest.

"I am so glad you're alive. I knew, Ollie, I knew even when they told me you were gone that you couldn't really be. I never gave up hope that you were alive. You always find a way to survive." Laurel's words were rushed and her embrace was bruising and Oliver was still not up to his regular strength.

Over Laurel's head, Oliver saw Felicity's gaze shutter at the brunette's words and he knew immediately what she was thinking. He sighed to himself before focusing back on Laurel, who was still talking.

"I am so glad I didn't lose you too," she whispered. Oliver gripped her shoulders and pulled her back. He wasn't quite sure what to say to the woman.

"Hi," he said, giving her a small smile.

"Hey," she replied back, a relieved smile on her lips. "So, how did you do it? How did you survive the League?"

"I didn't." He replied quickly, "I died."

Laurel blinked, her eyebrows furrowing, "Ollie, I-I don't understand."

"I was brought back to life." He said, letting go of one of her shoulders and glancing over at Felicity, "come down to the Arrow Cave with us and we'll explain. We have a plan."

His eyes met Felicity's for a long moment and Laurel stayed silent—they both were waiting for Felicity to give her permission.

"We need all the help we can get," the blond said before turning quickly on her heel and heading toward the back entrance of Verdant. Roy was walking at her shoulder immediately his head ducking close to whisper something to Felicity that made the older woman chuckle.

"She hates me," Laurel whispered as Oliver let go of her other shoulder and began to walk toward the club. He turned back slightly to look at Laurel, who hadn't moved yet.

"She doesn't hate you. She just, doesn't think you're ready yet."

"Do you, Oliver? Do you think I'm ready?"

Oliver sucked in a deep breath, the pad of his finger rubbing along his thumb, "I don't think anyone is ever ready. I don't think any of us are ready for what we're going to have to face. But we have to do it, to save the city, to save the ones we love."

Laurel nodded in understanding and then fell in step beside Oliver, entering Verdant with him and meeting the rest of the team in the foundry.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

Despite the fact that she was on their side, Talia al Ghul still unnerved Felicity.

She was all dark hair, dark eyes and slinky posture that Felicity found unfair and freakish. Yet, Felicity found she could tolerate Maseo much better than she could Talia and often found herself seated in between Oliver and Maseo during their "team meetings" where they discussed what they were going to do regarding Ra's al Ghul and Malcolm Merlyn.

"So Nyssa has no idea that we wanted to hand over Merlyn as Sara's murderer?" Felicity asked, leaning forward in her seat. They really needed to get a larger table, their group had expanded considerably. It easily sat four: Felicity, Oliver, Roy and Diggle. However, it did not comfortably seat eight: Felicity, Oliver, Roy, Diggle, Thea, Laurel, Talia and Maseo.

"No, Maseo had changed the information on Nyssa's note before she gave it to you and thus intercepted your communication with my sister, instead relaying the information to me."

"So he's a double agent," Felicity said, eying Maseo. The man met her gaze unflinchingly.

"He wishes to be free of the Demon. As does Malcolm Merlyn."

"Are you implying we work with Malcolm?" Laurel's voice piped up from the opposite end of the table where she was seated between Thea and Diggle. Diggle met Felicity's eyes from across the circle and the blond fought to keep her face neutral as she waited for Talia to respond.

Talia looked coolly at the brunette and that lack of a response immediately set Laurel off, "he killed my sister!"

"He is my father," Thea's voice was low and quiet and held a tone of challenge to it as she stared at the metal tabletop. Laurel turned her wide eyes on Thea but remained silent.

"I understand why you would be torn over this decision Laurel Lance. You are free to leave if you do not agree with my methods. But know, you cannot stop me," she paused for what Felicity assumed was effect, before continuing, "while we do need all the allies we can find, we do not need a hotheaded soldier who is unwilling to follow orders."

Laurel huffed, her mouth set in a hard line as she glared at the other woman.

"My plan is to amass an army of my father's enemies. We now know the secret to his immortality," he dark eyes flitted over to Oliver for a moment before it swept over the group gathered once more, "if we can injure him badly enough and then keep him from disappearing—or kill him outright and burn his remains—then we will rid the earth of the Demon forever."

"But there is the League to think about," Maseo began in his calm, measured voice, "there are many who have vowed to serve him and would never think of betraying him. Trained assassins, specialized killers who are not to be estimated."

"How many members of the League are there?" Roy asked, his light eyes even lighter as he sat under a shaft of light, morbid curiosity coloring his features.

"Numbering over a thousand," Talia answered, "if all gathered at once, including those in the process of being pledged."

"Is that including your sister?" Diggle asked.

"That is including my sister and those loyal to her."

"And you think Nyssa and all of her underlings will just switch sides?" Roy asked.

"For Sara, she will." Talia answered. All eyes were suddenly on the woman, especially Laurel's, whose gaze was like a blade cutting into the older woman, but Talia acted as if she was unaffected by the mutinous glare. "I will persuade my sister to join us. It will not be as hard you think. Sara's death is not the first transgression between my sister and our father. He has hurt her many times over and she has not forgotten any blight. She has a sharp mind and holds grudges, it is both her strength and her weakness."

Diggle sighed heavily, pushing himself back from the table, "well then, it sounds like all we need to do is get Nyssa here."

"Yes, and that will be Felicity's job." Talia said, her eyes moving to the blond, "I have Nyssa true contact information. I'd like you to tell her you have found Sara's true killer, and that she needs to come to Starling because the information is too delicate to be shared over a phone wire."

Felicity nodded mutely as the woman produced a small card from her pocket and set it on the table before she rose, Maseo rising beside her. "Tell her to meet you here in two days, at sunset. I want the foundry empty, except for me. I will speak with my sister alone, Maseo will retrieve all of you when the business is finished and we will move on from there." And then they left.

Oliver, who had been silent during the whole meeting, lifted his head, his brows still furrowed and he looked at Felicity, "are you sure you can do this?"

Felicity gave him a strange look, almost as if she was offended, "it's not like you can do this for me." She replied and she had a point. Nyssa was still unaware that he was alive, and he assumed Talia wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. He sighed, giving Felicity an apologetic look but she had already turned away, the card Talia had left in one hand, her cell phone in the other.

Oliver's gaze moved to the side, meeting Diggle's, who gave him another stern look. But he didn't need the look Diggle gave him to realize he had been in the wrong. The unsettled feeling in his gust and the tension in Felicity's back gave it all away.

"She'll forgive you, Ollie."

He looked up to find his sister leaning her hip against the cadaver table, looking down at him with a smug smirk twisted her lips.

He gave her an unconvinced look even though he knew she was right, because he and Felicity had been too much for a simple misguided, thoughtless question to come between them. Though they had let less do that before. Now, their relationship was completely different. They had both walked through the fire and come out with the scars to prove it.

"How has she been?" he asked, his voice oddly hoarse.

"I didn't know her very well before all of this, but from what Roy has told me and the quick glimpses of the more carefree Felicity I've seen—she's changed a lot, Ollie. But not all of it has been bad." Thea crossed her arms over her chest, glancing over her shoulder at the blond who was deep in conversation with Nyssa. "She dedicated herself to your mission, she brought me down here one day and didn't sugar coat a single thing, she told me everything. About you, about my father, about what's happened to this city. And it that one conversation, I found this compelling urge to follow her. She doesn't realize it, but she has this insane charisma that makes you believe every words that comes out of her mouth, even when the odds are dim and death is certain."

"She's a better leader than I could ever hope to be," Oliver said softly.

"Then let her lead. She's gotten pretty good at it." She walked slowly over to stand by his side, a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her, "I love you Speedy."

"I know Ollie, I love you too. And I've missed you," she wrapped one arm around him, hugging him into her side and Oliver smiled, glad to be home with his family once again.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

They weren't expecting a visitor for another two days, so when an extra presence was felt in the foundry the morning before the day Nyssa was supposed to arrive suddenly everyone was on edge and had a weapon in hand.

It was Oliver's first real chance to see Felicity in her true vigilante form because before he had even reacted she already had her sword drawn and she was advancing the man in the shadows.

Talia was beside her, a Shamshir blade in each hand, poised and ready to attack, Maseo was just to her left, his katana unsheathed.. Diggle had his gun raised and ready, Roy beside him with bow and arrow drawn, Thea on his other side with her own blade ready. Laurel was spinning daggers around her fingers, looking ready for a fight.

The man stepped out of the shadows, reaching up to pull down his cowl and hood, revealing that Malcolm Merlyn was the intruder.

"Al Sa-Her," Talia said, not moving from her tensed position. Merlyn's eyes moved from Thea to Talia.

"Leviathan," he said, eyebrows raised, chin lifting defiantly, "I was not aware you were a friend of the Arrow," his eyes fell to Oliver, not even looking the slightest bit surprised that Oliver Queen was still alive. "But I guess that makes sense, seeing as the Arrow lives. I don't think the Demon often gives out the addresses to his Lazarus pits to his opponents."

"There are multiple Lazarus pits?" Felicity's incredulous whisper was uttered under her breath but heard all the same.

"I know of three," Merlyn said, eyes falling on Felicity who matched his dark gaze.

Suddenly there was a cry released from the row of vigilantes as Laurel rushed forward in a blaze of rage, heading directly for Merlyn. The father of her deceased love just smirked and did not even make a move to flee, he knew the woman would not reach him.

Laurel had only made it a few feet when suddenly Diggle had his arms wrapped around her middle, holding her arms to her chest, Roy was at his side helping restrain the woman quickly.

"You killed my sister!" She screamed.

"Technically, Thea did." He said, eyes looking down on his daughter who glared back at him, "though I see you're both on the same side, so I'm guessing there are no hard feelings between the two of you."

"We've made it perfectly clear to her that I was just a weapon, that I had no control over my actions—you were the one who decided to kill Sara—not me," Thea spoke in an even voice that betrayed no emotion and Oliver couldn't help the swell of pride in his chest as he watched her. When his eyes flickered over to Felicity he recognized the same proud look on her face.

"Malcolm Merlyn," Talia quickly regained control of the situation, "we have no ill will toward you, no grudge held. We would actually like to have you as an ally."

"An ally in what exactly? I thought you were planning to turn me over to the League to face my death."

"Not quite Merlyn," Felicity had stepped forward, standing even with Talia now, both of their weapons still drawn but lowered slightly, "we want your help in killing Ra's al Ghul."

"You want to kill the Demon. Oliver already proved he wasn't up to the job."

"Oliver will not be the one to do it." Talia spoke, dark eyes focused on a point past Merlyn's shoulder for a moment before that snapped back onto the man, "I will. And I will not fail if I have you, as well as this team, standing beside me."

"So are you in? Do you want to find out how immortal the Demon really is?" Felicity asked the older man who was silent as he contemplated the group gathered before him.

"I'm intrigued by this plan of yours. I'll bite, but just because we all know the death of the Demon will free me from him."

"That's what we were betting on," Felicity said with a smirk, "welcome to the team, Dark Archer."

"I feel very welcome, Artemis."

Oliver stared between the two as they shared a sardonic look before Merlyn turned and disappeared into the shadows once more and Felicity sheathed her sword.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

Felicity had Oliver's shoulders pinned to the mat for a two count when Maseo was suddenly standing in the center of the foundry.

"Nyssa has arrived early. You all need to leave," he spoke in that measured tone of his which caused Felicity to smirk wryly.

She got up off of Oliver, helping him to his feet. In the past few days his strength had been returning to him in leaps and bounds. He could spar and participate in target practice and properly use the salmon ladder. All things Felicity was extremely grateful for.

He had been reluctant to spar with Felicity at first, but she had egged him on enough—and persuaded him in very _creative_ ways—to get him to agree. And of course, when they finally had time to spar, they are interrupted almost immediately by a minor crises.

"Let us know when it's safe to come back," Felicity says as she pulls a hoodie on over her head, not even realizing it is one of Oliver's that she had kept in the foundry after his death. She realizes what it is when she catches Oliver's heavy gaze on her in the parking lot.

Before she can get a word out, Oliver had her pressed against he side of her Mini Cooper, his hand curled into her pony tail, his mouth devouring hers and a different kind of heat curling in her stomach. She clutched at him just as deliriously, matching him in fervor until they both break away, knowing they need to leave.

"Your apartment," Oliver whispered, his forehead pressed to hers as they regain their breath.

Felicity looks up at him through her lashes and then nods, both of them quickly sliding into her car.

Her apartment was cold and dusty and still a mess even though she hadn't been living in it for four months. However, none of that seemed to bother Oliver because the moment they were through the door he had her in his arms again and it felt like he never wanted to let her go.

Distantly, Felicity realized that it probably wasn't the right place or time for what was about to happen between them, but then she was reminded of the fact that there will never be a right place or time for her and Oliver. Everything about them and their lives was unconventional and she had learned over the past year that she just needed to make the best of it and take advantage of the moments as they arise.

Sliding his shirt over his head, her hands greedily mapping out Oliver's canvas of skin that she had dreamed of feeling for months, she felt him pull back to look down at her. She pulled back as well, tilting her head to look up at him due to their difference in height. His skin was flushed, his eyes wide with desire, his hair slightly mussed from her fingers and there was an awed smile quirking his lips and she realizes he is beautiful.

She knew this of course—he is gorgeous and handsome and completely delectable—but in that moment his is the most beautiful sight she has ever seen and for four months she had believed she would never look upon him again.

So, this was the perfect place, and the perfect time for whatever was about to happen between them. She loved him, and he loved her—they'd said the words, they'd survived hell to prove it, and they were going into a war together that they might not come out of alive. She deserved this perfect moment with this beautiful man.

Slowly, so slowly she heard Oliver's breath catch, she rose up on her toes and brushed her lips against his, whispering "I love you Oliver Queen," before sealing her mouth over his and sealing their fate together.

Somewhere in their sweaty mess, his forehead was pressed to hers, his body pressed to hers and their hands intertwined and he whispered two words that caused her to lose rhythm for a moment.

"Marry me?"

She gasped and suddenly she was on the edge of a precipice that was not as frightening as the one in Oliver's nightmares—and he was there to catch her in this scenario as she falls in a blissful rapture that has her clutching his shoulders and crying into his ear, "yes, Oliver. God, yes, I'll marry you."

He was smiling as he followed after her, the smile remaining on his face as they curled around each other in her unused bed and they waited for their reality to come crashing down on them.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

"Little sister. I was not expecting you here." Nyssa's voice was smooth and clear as she stepped into the light of the foundry, surprisingly alone.

Talia had already been aware of her sister's presence before she spoke and had located her sister in the shadow's with an uncanny sense of knowing, her eyes fixated on the older woman.

"There is much we need to speak about," Talia said slowly, keeping her posture straight, but her arms at her side, not trying to appear a threat.

"Felicity Smoak told me she had found Sara's murderer. Do you know who it was?" There was an unspoken question of _was it you?_

"I told Felicity to tell you that, so you would come to Starling City. But truthfully sister, you've known who caused your love's death since the moment the news reached you. It's not that hard to figure out."

"I am not here to play games little sister." Nyssa replied, the barest hint of annoyance coloring her tone.

"I am not trying to play games, dearest sister. I am just trying to cure you of your blindness." Talia replied as the two began to circle around each other slowly, staying several feet apart from each other.

"My blindness?" Nyssa's voice lifted in incredulity, rippling the smoothness of her tone.

"Yes, your blindness when it comes to our father." Talia's eyes narrowed, her hands curling into loose fists at her sides.

"What does the Demon have to do with this?" Nyssa questioned.

"He is the reason Sara is dead." She did not wait a moment to respond, she spoke immediately.

There was a moment of acute silence where Nyssa stared back at her sister uncomprehendingly. "I do not understand sister."

"The only reason Sara is dead is because of our father's refusal to allow Malcolm Merlyn to leave the League. If it had not been for his anger, and hurt pride then Merlyn would never have gone to the extents he did in his twisted plan to try and kill our father."

"What you are saying is dangerous, sister, tread carefully." Nyssa warned, hand curling around her bow.

"No more dangerous than you loving Sara." She paused and then dove into the explanation of how Sara's death had occurred, "Malcolm Merlyn used Thea Queen as a vessel to murder Sara, because he knew Oliver would never turn in his sister to the League. Instead, Merlyn believed Oliver could strike dead the Demon—Oliver did exactly as the Magician predicted, he turned himself in as the accused to challenge our father in trial by combat. But he failed."

Nyssa stared back at her sister unflinchingly, but Talia knew she had already gotten under her skin.

"Sara died in vain." Talia spoke the words strongly.

There was a harsh cry and then Nyssa charged at her sister, bow slung over her shoulder and daggers drawn instead. Talia caught her sister's wrists, using the older woman's momentum to push her away.

"The Magician's plan failed, thus Sara's death was for nothing." Talia's tone was still level but held a dangerous edge to it that was provoking her sister.

Nyssa drew her bow, an arrow aimed at her sister expertly even in her obvious emotional distress, "stop talking sister, or I will kill you for less than nothing."

Talia held her arms out at her sides, "sister, there is only one reason Malcolm Merlyn ever created this cruel plan of his." She paused, meeting her sister's eyes, "he knew the only way to escape our father was by killing him. Our father will never let him live in peace, he will continue to attempt to purge the earth of his existence and running is no way to live."

Nyssa's head inclined slightly at her sister's words.

"It is because of our father's lack of forgiveness, and his ability to hold a grudge for centuries that Sara is dead. If the Demon had just let Merlyn go, Sara would be alive."

Nyssa's jaw quivered slightly.

"It is our father's fault that Sara is dead." Her words rang out with a finality and authority, a condemnation and accusation all at once.

Nyssa's arms relaxed as she dropped her bow, replacing the arrow in her quiver, her eyes staring down at the floor. She did not speak for several minutes and in the dim glow of the foundry, Talia saw a tear trail down her sister's cheek.

She slowly took two steps toward her sister, "but he does not have to go unpunished for his crimes."

Nyssa looked up sharply at her sister's words, "what have you been planning sister?"

"Our father's death."

Nyssa's shoulder pulled tight, "the Demon cannot die."

"But he can if we keep him from the thing that has given him his immortality." Talia said slowly, "I have been amassing an army for years now, and finally I have been given a sign that the heavens are on my side and I will succeed in ridding the earth of the Demon."

Nyssa's head tilted to the side slightly as she took in her sister's words, "why are you in Starling City?"

"Good fortune brought me here."

Nyssa's brows furrowed, "good fortune?"

"_Felicitas_. She is the symbol we fight for, the banner we fight under."

"Felicity Smoak will lead the charge against my father? I hardly think she is the warrior for this task."

"The Felicity Smoak you know is not the Felicity Smoak that I see now. She has changed much from Oliver Queen's death."

"She fights for revenge." Nyssa guessed, she had noticed the connection between Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak when she had last been in Starling City, and she had also witnessed Oliver Queen's death at the hands of her father, and then she had been in the room when Felicity learned of Oliver's death. She could sympathize with the woman.

"No, she fights to protect." Talia had turned away and was now tracing her fingers along the sharp edges of a green arrow, "Oliver Queen is alive."

"No. I saw him lose to the Demon. He was thrown off a mountaintop."

"And died, yes. But I was there too, dear sister, and I took him to the Lazarus pit." Talia confessed to her sister.

There was a soft gasp, "that is holy ground sister."

"Yet a Demon walks upon it quite frequently. I think Oliver Queen is far more deserving of the pit's powers than our father, don't you? Sara's death is not the only wrong the Demon has committed against you, as he has crossed me many a time. We have no reason to be faithful to him besides blood. Yet, we are blood, are we not? We can choose to be faithful to one another over our father, who has never truly cared for either of us."

"And Felicity Smoak will lead your army against our father and the League."

"With Oliver Queen and his allies beside him. I will kill our father." She paused in thought, "but, without our father the League will be headless. And I cannot have that type of chaos unleashed on the world. I will need someone I trust to lead the League into a new era."

"And you want me to be that leader." It was not a question, Nyssa had already deduced what her sister wanted from her, but yet she could not understand why her sister would not just take the reigns from their father's lifeless hands, "Why not you?"

"I do not belong in the League." Talia replied shortly.

Nyssa inclined her head slightly, knowing her sister's words were true. She had been banished from the League over a decade ago and now Nyssa realized her sister had not spent those years in hiding. Instead, she had been growing herself a following, taking in all those who had been wronged by the Demon. The people who's loved ones had been struck down by the League, the people who were not allowed the leave the League, and the many others who hated Ra's al Ghul had all been gathered by Talia and united in her cause. Now, it was time for them to enact their revenge, to strike down the Demon and end his tyranny.

The two sisters stared at each other with matching dark eyes.

"Will you help me sister? Will you extend your hand and your allegiance to me?" Then she corrected herself, "to Al-Vela?"

"I will help you end our father, for Al-Vela and for Sara."

Talia nodded, and that was all that needed to be said for the agreement between the two sisters.

"I will gather the team."

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

When they entered the foundry, Nyssa was standing beside Talia and Felicity was rocked by the similarities between the two even though they have different mothers.

"Nyssa," Felicity said and the woman glanced up at the blond, nodding in greeting.

"It is time to begin our training," Talia announced, spreading her arms wide as the group gathered around her, Nyssa and Maseo standing at either of her shoulders. "Killing my father will be no easy task, taking on the League will require all of us to be at our best. I have faith in all of you rising to the challenge." Her eyes moved over the team, "I do think we need to gather more soldiers, more allies to aid us in our mission. My sister has agreed to bring in the members of the League who are pledged to her rather than our father. But we will need more, _special_ individuals," her eyes landed on Felicity, "I assume your leader can find these for us." Her eyes remained on Felicity until Roy, Diggle, Oliver, Thea and even Laurel all nodded.

"We have a few friends who would be willing to help," Oliver spoke finally, stepping up to Felicity's shoulder. Diggle and Roy stepped up to her other side, her second-, third-, and fourth-in-command respectively. "Right, Felicity?"

"Yeah, I'll make some calls," she said, trying not to stutter as she realized the magnitude of the moment.

She had just been elected the leader of Team Arrow.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

Ray Palmer is the last thing she expected at her front door, but she shouldn't be too surprised, she was aware that he already knew where she lived, he'd been there before.

But the last time Ray Palmer was at her front door, a half-naked Oliver Queen was not in her bedroom.

"Ray?" His name left her lips like a question, and it was, because she'd quit working for him months ago and he hadn't made it a priority to stay in contact with her.

"The suit is finished," he gave her no preamble, just spoke in his rushed, excited, charismatic tone and it reminded Felicity of how he appeared to be her type of man and yet was nothing like the man she wanted, the man she now had.

"Felicity?" A groggy voice questioned from down the hallway leading to her bedroom.

Felicity bit down on her lip, "It's just Ray...Palmer," she added at the last moment, hoping Oliver wasn't approaching down the hall.

Ray's eyes lifted over her shoulder and she knew immediately that Oliver, in fact, had left the bedroom and was now standing a few feet behind her. She studied Ray's stare for a moment, it wasn't his usual confident, intellectual gaze—it was something different. She turned to see just what he was staring at and once she had moved she realized what it was.

Oliver stood at the mouth of the hallway, shirtless, with all of his scars on display for Ray Palmer.

Oliver tilted his head to the side, his eyes intent on Palmer, "Felicity told me about your plans."

"She didn't need to tell me you were the Arrow. It's not that hard to figure out if you look deep enough."

"Thankfully most people are pretty shallow," Felicity commented flippantly but the light-hearted words were lost on the two men who were still staring intently at each other.

"I am glad to see you're alive," Ray said and despite the obvious awkwardness between the three because of Felicity's previous not-relationship with Ray, and her current complicated relationship with Oliver, his words were completely genuine, as was the half-smile Oliver gave in return.

"I am quite content to be alive as well," Oliver replied, "would you like some coffee? We have a few things we'd like to discuss with you."

Ray's head canted to the side, curiosity immediately grasping his intellectual mind. He needed to see the facts behind Oliver's vague words, "sure, I've only had three cups today."

Felicity's brows furrowed, "it's nine am."

Ray shrugged, "it's a slow day," and then he followed Oliver into her small kitchen, leaving Felicity standing in her open front doorway completely tilted off her axis.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

"Barry? I-It's Felicity." She spoke into the phone, sounding slightly awkward as Oliver's hand wrapped around her free one.

"Felicity? It's good to hear from you," he sounded genuinely happy for a moment before his tone turned somber, "I heard about Oliver. I'm really sorry for your loss. If there's anything you need—."

She cut him off, "that's actually why I'm calling." She glanced down at Oliver, "Oliver is alive."

"He is?" He sounded happy, not upset, which Felicity was thankful for, "that's great news."

"It really is. But something big is happening right now, and the team kinda needs your help."

"You know you don't even need to ask." He responded without waiting a beat.

"I know, but this time, the favor is huge—like life and death, you-might-die huge."

"I owe a lot to Oliver. And to you. No favor is too big." Barry assured her.

"We're planning on taking out the leader of the League of Assassins."

"And when you say 'taking out,' you mean killing?"

"Yes, we really don't have much of a choice." She said slowly, Oliver's hand tightening around hers, "but we don't expect you to do anything you're not morally okay with. You don't have to kill anyone, just knock a few people off their feet into unconsciousness."

"I'll help you, Felicity, you don't need to convince me or reassure me of anything. Consider me and my team at your disposal."

"Thank you so much Barry," she smiled, relieved that the conversation had gone so well.

"Let me know when we need to be in Starling."

"Of course, and you'll be here in—

"A flash," he finished and she could imagine the smirk on his face as she nodded and then ended the call.

"Well, we've got a Flash," Felicity said, turning to the team, even gaining Talia's attention, "is that special enough for you?" She asked, propping a hand on her hip.

One corner of Talia's mouth curled up in a smile and she nodded once.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~_

When Diggle entered the foundry with Lyla in tow Felicity knew something of magnitude was about to happen.

"I know you're amassing an army to kill Ra's al Ghul." Lyla began as she stopped in front of the metal cadaver table that had become the focal point of their war room.

Maseo had stepped protectively in front of Talia at the other woman's approach but after a moment, Talia waved her hand at the assassin and he stepped aside.

Talia rose to her feet with a regal grace Felicity couldn't even hope to obtain on her best days. "And I do not think A.R.G.U.S. is idiotic enough to stand in my way." She crossed her arms over her chest, her dark, silky hair falling over her shoulder.

Felicity's eyes met Digg's over Lyla's shoulder and he had an exasperated look on his face, like he had told Lyla that this strategy she was employing wouldn't work. Obviously, she had refused to listen to him. Felicity gave her friend a sympathetic look before turning back to the two women.

"Quite the contrary," Lyla said, her hands falling to her side, "Amanda Waller has agreed to allow this coup."

Talia inclined her head, her eyes cutting over to Oliver and then turning her head to look over her shoulder at Felicity. After a long moment, Talia spoke again, "you have delivered your message. I am so _relieved_ we have your Amanda Waller's permission to kill my father."

Felicity recognized the sarcastic lilt in Talia's voice and tried to hind a smirk behind a fist which she lifted to her lips.

"You don't just have Waller's permission. She has sanctioned the use of the Suicide Squad under my lead as a part of your alliance." Lyla spoke the words slowly, with an authority that Felicity found admirable.

Talia's brows lifted, and then a corner of her mouth lifted in a snake-like smirk. "I have heard of your Suicide Squad, Harbinger."

Lyla allowed shock to color her features for a brief moment at the realization that this woman knew her alias, then she schooled her expression once more into a cool mask.

"They would be very useful to our cause, I agree. And I understand that killing Ra's al Ghul would benefit Amanda Waller greatly, but it is not just my decision to make." With that Talia turned to look at Oliver and then her gaze swept around the semi-circle their team had created behind her, her eyes falling on Felicity last.

"Artemis, Arrow—would you both find this partnership a beneficial move?"

Felicity opened her mouth and closed it, surprised that Talia was asking for her input. She glanced over at Oliver, their eyes meeting over the distance between them. Oliver's eyes flickered over to Diggle, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Oliver in turn nodded to Felicity, giving her the go-ahead to be their spokesperson.

"We've seen before how effective the Suicide Squad is. And it's very unlikely that they'll disobey orders because of the bombs in their heads," she paused as she recognized the beginning of one of her rambles. She closed her mouth and inhaled deeply for a short moment, calming her shaking hands before continuing, "However, we must always assume that Amanda Waller has a hidden agenda in lending the squad to us." Felicity spoke slowly, letting the analytical side of her brain speak for her.

Talia nodded once, "but you think we should accept their help."

"I think they'll help us accomplish our goal while lowering the cost of life. Regardless of what Amanda Waller is really after, we might as well use them while we can." Felicity replied.

Talia nodded once again and then turned back to Lyla. "We will accept the aid of Amanda Waller's Suicide Squad under the banner of _Al-Vela_," Talia said, her eyes never leaving Lyla's.

The group seemed to relax at the words, at the realization that they weren't going into this war alone, that they'd have some certified muscle and guns. Felicity, however, was wrapped around Talia's words.

"What does _Al-Vela_ mean?" Felicity asked in a whisper from where she stood next to Maseo.

"The Widow." He replied, his eyes on his superior. Felicity's brows furrowed in confusion.

"And who is 'The Widow'?" Felicity asked, using fingers to quote the title and making a bemused face because the name was a little presumptuous and a lot morbid.

Maseo turned his head slightly towards her, eyebrows slightly lifted as he answered simply, "you."

* * *

_I am not afraid to keep on living_

_I am not afraid to walk this world alone _

_(or dead)_

_Honey if you stay, I'll be forgiven _

_Nothing you can say can stop me going home_

* * *

So most of this chapter was about the team amassing a bigger team, and the next (and final) chapter will be the big battle. Let me know what you think, drop a review please!


	6. Part VI

So, I'm not gonna lie, this chapter is massive-humongously long and I apologize for that. I tried to cut out parts (I did end up cutting a few) but I still felt like every section that is included in this chapter was important, soooo..it's long, really, really, really long.

But, this is the final chapter, the story is now complete. Thank you so much to everyone who followed, favorited and reviewed this story. This is my first fanfic for the Arrow fandom and you have all been so welcoming, I have loved every review/PM I've received. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I've thought about a sequel to this fic, and I thought I was going to ask the readers in this A/N if you wanted a sequel but, ultimately, I've decided not to continue this fic. I feel like the way it ends here is where it should end. I started this fic thinking it would be just an Olicity Reunion fic, but it really developed into a narrative about Felicity evolving into her own type of hero-and this chapter I feel is the culmination of all her efforts. Not everyone may agree with the way I end things, but to each their own-I feel the ending I wrote is the ending that fits Felicity's journey.

However, I am working out the details of a new Olicity/Arrow fic based off the episode summaries that were released for Season 3B. So, keep your eyes peeled for that in the future (Author Alert maybe?). Until then, keep reading, writing and reviewing!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything related to Arrow. I am not making any profit from this. Also, the lyrics used do not belong to me, they are from the song "The Phoenix" by Fall Out Boy.

Enjoy!

xoxoNelly

* * *

_Put on your war paint_

* * *

Felicity leaned over, hands braced on her knees as she caught her breath after a rigorous training session with Roy and Maseo. She glanced up as a white towel came into her line of vision and found Maseo holding it out to her.

She smiled gratefully, taking the towel from him and wiping it over her face before straightening up.

"You have improved greatly since the first time I saw you fight," Maseo said.

"I've had a lot of time to practice," she replied easily, she was used to the man's presence and personality now.

She caught Oliver's shift in expression at her words out of the corner of her eye but knew she didn't have time to address his own guilt and self-deprecation. They were preparing for a war, and if they didn't prepare properly for the battlefield, then there would be no them.

Maseo and Felicity glanced over at Roy, who was lying spread eagle on the training mat, his chest heaving, "it's not fair when you double team on me."

Felicity smirked down at the younger man before extending her hand to him and helping him to his feet. "Suck it up, pretty boy."

"Shut it Blondie, it's not my fault you're Bruce Lee's favorite," he said, motioning to Maseo. Felicity rolled her eyes at the jab, sending Maseo an apologetic look, but the assassin seemed completely unfazed.

"Felicity?"

Her head turned at the sound of her name, to find Oliver standing awkwardly at the edge of the training mats. She lifted her eyebrows in recognition waiting for him to continue. She watched as his forefinger rubbed along the pad of his thumb before he responded, "can I speak with you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, yeah," she stuttered through her affirmation before waving to Maseo and Roy and walking off the mats to fall into step beside Oliver. He led her toward the back of the foundry, where there was a small sofa and Oliver's cot. He took a seat on the sofa and then looked up at her imploringly when she didn't immediately sit down beside him.

"What's going on? You're acting strange." She said, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to recall if anything bad had happened to them the night before or earlier that morning, but nothing came to mind. Maybe Talia had spoken to him about their League plan that wouldn't work and he had to break the news to her.

"I," he stopped and took a deep breath, "I just thought we should talk."

"About what?" If possible, her brows furrowed even more at his vague sentence.

"About my, proposal," the way he said the word made both of them cringe, but he continued on quickly before she could get a word in edgewise, "I know it was sudden and the timing was horrible and we haven't had any time to even talk about our relationship. So I guess, what I'm saying is, if you only said yes because we were in the heat of the moment I don't blame you, and you can take it back. We can take things more slowly." With that he exhaled deeply and his shoulders slumped, as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on them.

Felicity's eyebrows had lifted as she listened to the words pour from his mouth. He wasn't looking at her, his blue eyes focused on a point over her shoulder—a clear sign of how uncomfortable he was with the situation and just how insecure he felt about it too. It was adorable and heartbreaking all in the same moment.

"I want to marry you Oliver."

Suddenly his eyes snapped to hers, "you do?"

"I do." She nodded, "and you're right, we haven't had any time to talk about us. But I think we're really past the point of doing that, don't you? I mean, I've been in love with you for two years, Oliver. I'm in love with all the different faucets of you, Ollie the prodigal son, Oliver Queen the Billionaire and CEO, the Hood, the Arrow, and my Oliver."

His blue eyes filled with a light she had never witnessed before, a happiness she didn't think he was capable of. A swell of pride rose in her that she could inspire such a happiness in him.

"So, you know I love you, and I know you love me. We're starting a war with a demon in the hopes of creating a world where we can be together," she shrugged, "I don't regret anything that's happened between us, Oliver. Sure, I would've liked for us to have not waited so long to figure out how we can be together but things happen for a reason. We're both ready now, that's what matters. And I don't want to take back my yes. I want to marry you, as soon as possible really." She smiled at him and shrugged, I'd like to be your wife before I die."

The expression on his face could only be described as tender as he rose from the couch and took the few steps needed to bring himself to stand directly in front of her. His hands circled her wrists and then slid of her arms, curving over her shoulders, cupping the sides of her neck and then framing her face before he pressed his mouth to hers in a kiss that was absolutely breathtaking. She gave in to the pull to be closer to him, allowing her arms to circle around his waist and slide her palms up his strong back, feeling his muscles ripple beneath her fingertips.

When she surged up to press her mouth more firmly to his, tilting her head to get a better angle, Oliver growled low in his throat, a heat in his belly flaring to life at the feel and taste of her. Suddenly, his hands were on her hips, pulling her body flush against his and she moaned softly into his open mouth, allowing his tongue to curl around hers sensually.

Her palms pressed flat against his shoulders, before curling her fingers around his shoulders and gripping tightly. But suddenly, the need for air was pressing and they needed to separate. Felicity had a feeling Talia wouldn't appreciate finding a passed out Felicity from lack of oxygen due to kissing Oliver.

When he pulled back he stared down at her with adoring blue eyes, "I want to marry you," he whispered raggedly, completely out of breath, "but I don't know if now is the right time," he confessed.

She cut him off, "there will never be a right time, Oliver. I don't need a fancy ceremony or reception, or a ten thousand dollar dress and a five tier cake, or the hottest DJ this side of Starling City. I just need you, standing next to me, promising to love me for the rest of my life."

"I don't even have a ring," he whispered pressing his forehead to hers, but there was a smile curling his lips, like he completely agreed with her words.

"Well, get on that. Once you have the ring, we're getting married." She said, leaving no room for argument in her tone, tapping her forehead against his and taking his hands in hers, squeezing them tightly.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering, "okay," against her skin, and then, "I love you, Felicity Smoak."

"And I love you," she replied without a moment of hesitation, smiling against his neck as she wrapped her arms around him.

Resting his cheek against her hair Oliver smiled to himself because even though this Felicity was not the same Felicity he had left behind—he had fallen in love with this woman, and loved her just as deeply as he did before he died, if not more. He didn't quite feel like his old self, and she didn't completely feel like her old self but they still complimented each other perfectly. She was still his light even though they had both had their brightness dimmed. She would always make him want to be better, and even though he had hurt her with his death—he realized now, that he made her better as well.

Because the Felicity standing in his arms now, was infinitely better than the Felicity that he didn't allow himself to be close to because he was afraid of how the world could harm her without her being able to defend herself. He knew, now she didn't need him to save her, she could save herself—but in a way, she had always been her own hero.

And she had always been his.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"We leave for Tibet in two weeks," Talia announced to the group gathered before her.

Felicity, Oliver, Diggle, Roy, Thea, Laurel, Ray, Barry, Lyla, Maseo, and Malcolm Merlyn all stood in a small crowd, suddenly making the foundry—which had once upon a time seemed enormous and cavernous to Felicity—feel suddenly suffocating.

"My sister shall do her part, she will plant the seed of a rival worthy of taking the Demon's power rising up to challenge him. She will advise him to prepare for a war. Once he sees our army in Tibet, he will no doubt believe her story and raise up an army of his own."

"And army that is partly made up of soldiers who will turn against him," Diggle said, his large arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed as he analyzed their plan.

"Correct, Freelancer." Talia replied with a single nod. Over the past few weeks she had begun referring to everyone by their codenames rather than their first names—a practice they would have to take up once they were out on the battlefield. It had been decided upon that Felicity was to remain mostly anonymous to everyone outside this room—excluding Nyssa, obviously. Any soldiers fighting under her banner would only know her as Al-Vela or the Widow, not Felicity Smoak.

It was strange to have to deny her own identity, but then it was something that Oliver could sympathize with and just the previous night she had brought up her troubles with him. It felt strange, and yet freeing, to talk to Oliver about something so personal. His own identity crises were not something they would have talked about before. Just as his time on the island, and her becoming a vigilante would have been off-limits before as well.

"Once we reach Tibet, I will split this group into three units." Talia continued, "Sarab, Arrow, Freelancer, Arsenal and Al-Vela will remain with me. Speedy, Black Canary, Magician, Flash and Atom will be the second unit. And the final unit will be Harbinger and the Suicide Squad." The group nodded in acquiescence.

"The unit Al-Vela and I will lead are mostly long-range fighters. Magician, your unit is better suited for long range attacks, you will lead the sector of soldiers on the front line. The Widow's soldiers will be the second wave, Freelancer and Arsenal will stay with the soldiers while Al-Vela, Arrow, Sarab and myself join Nyssa to take on my father and his guards."

"I want everyone to start training in hand to hand combat immediately. The Magician, Arrow and Myself know the League's fighting style better than the rest, so we will lead you in your training to give you guidance into what types of foes you will be facing. But remember, every member of the League is specialized in a weapon, but also are very skilled in hand-to-hand combat and most are excellent swordsmen. There is a lot to be prepared for, but we have the knowledge needed to gain the upper hand over my father's disciples. I have faith in the team we have gathered."

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

Nyssa gracefully dropped down to a knee as she approached her father as he sat at his throne, appearing more regal than he truly was.

"Father," she greeted in a even tone.

"My daughter," he replied, "you have news to report?"

"Yes, father. I fear it is not the type of news you prefer."

He arched an eyebrow, resting his elbow on the armrest of his chair, lifting ring-covered fingers to his mouth. He flicked his fingers out at her, "speak now, girl."

"A rival, intent on dethroning you."

"A rival?" He sounded slightly incredulous, and let out a huffing laugh, "the last rival I faced is lying dead in the snow, daughter."

"This rival is different father. The people who follow her call her _Al-Vela_."

"_The Widow_," he murmured to himself, "the widow of who?"

Nyssa kept her eyes low as she shook her head, "I do not know. All I know is that her followers adore her, they are loyal to her to the death and will follow her against any foe she chooses," Nyssa lifted her dark eyes to meet her fathers, "and she has chosen you."

"Does she have a grievance with me?"

"There is a rumor circling that you killed her lover."

"Hmm," he hummed to himself lowly, drumming his fingers against his bottom lip, "I have killed many men, dear daughter." He tilted his head, "do tell, daughter, would you take this threat seriously? Is this, _Al-Vela_, a foe I should fear?"

"I would not underestimate her father. I heard she is a fearsome warrior, driven by revenge and love lost."

"Yes," he murmured, "and you would know much of that." He rose suddenly from his throne and Nyssa's head tilted back to keep her father in her sight, "If you feel this woman is a true threat then keep your eyes and ears open and prepare our troops."

"Yes, father."

"I do not foresee this developing into a war, daughter, but the stories of this woman seem to have planted a seed of worry in you, so I will trust your judgment."

Nyssa nodded, lowering her eyes once more, "I will carry out your will father."

"Let it be done. Return to me if you receive more news." He nodded to her, folding his arms behind his back. She remained kneeling on the floor for a silent moment before he spoke, "you are dismissed."

Nyssa rose gracefully to her feet and turned on her heel in the same breath. As she exited her father's private chambers her eyes darkened until they were black, the skin along her shoulders prickling at her fathers dismissal.

If only he knew that soon, she would be the one dismissing him from this earth.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

The camp they had set up in the mountains of Tibet was sprawling and filled to the brim with the army that Talia had amassed, and the numbers they had gathered did not include those pledging fealty to Nyssa. However, a few representatives for Nyssa were present in the camp as they gathered in the dusk for a meeting. The battle would be soon, definitely within the week. Talia was planning to rally the troops that night, to lift their morale before war broke out.

"_Al-Vela_." A voice called from Felicity's left and the blond looked up to find Talia speaking to her, "come with me," she beckoned the younger woman with her hand, turning on her heel before Felicity could even move or respond.

"Duty calls," she sighed, nodding to Maseo before pushing herself to her feet and following Talia into her tent.

The older woman turned to the blond once she stood next to an old wooden chest. "I have a gift for you," Talia said in her low, sweeping voice.

Felicity raised her brows, "for me?" The idea of Talia giving gifts just seemed out of place in Felicity's brain.

Talia nodded once, "I already know you have the spirit of a leader," Talia said and she shot Felicity a look when the blond moved to contradict her, "I know you can speak as one, but I also need you to appear as one. Al-Vela is a victorious monarch, deadly and vengeful. I need Felicity Smoak to look that way."

It was the first time Talia had used Felicity's real name in weeks, she had begun to think the older woman had just forgotten what it was. Felicity made no mistake in thinking that she and Talia had any sort of connection or friendship, she knew that to Talia she was just a tool, a symbol she was using in her plan to murder her father. And Felicity was okay with that, because the outcome benefited herself and her loved ones as well, so she would be Talia's weapon.

However, in that moment, Talia's eyes showed just how valuable she found Felicity to be, as more than just a weapon.

"You may not realize this, but you possess a magnetism that draws people to you. People who will follow you to their deaths without knowing what they will face—if only you ask."

Felicity blinked at the woman, because in all of her life she had never thought herself capable of that kind of power, nor had she ever wanted it. Now, she had it, it was given to her without a choice, blindly placed into her hands. She had a whole army that believed in her, and most of those that made up the army had never even seen her face.

"Tonight, I want you to ask," Talia spoke again, stealing Felicity from her thoughts. "I have no doubt that they will say yes to you, but I cannot have you speaking in front of them dressed as you are." She turned and opened the heavy wooden chest next to her, unlocking it with a key that had been hanging against her collarbone. "I had this made for you."

When Talia turned around she was holding up a new suit, in the same dark green Felicity and Oliver both used. However, the design was very different from the suit she wore in Starling while out on patrol. She felt her mouth drop open as she took the ensemble in.

The leather pants were black instead of her usual green, but the seems were highlighted in a deep emerald. The black boots didn't have a heel, good for maneuvering in, and laced up the front, stopping just below her knee.

But the robe—that's what really stole Felicity's breath—it was a heavy fabric she couldn't even come up with a name for, but it was dark green with sleeves that billowed out at the wrist and tightened at her elbow with black leather segments. The robe was short in the front, making it easy for her to walk in, but a heavy train flowed to the grand and about a foot behind. The shoulders had armored plates that were engraved with intricate swirls. From the back of the robe, a hood hung in a deep emerald.

"It-It's beautiful," Felicity whispered, her fingers reaching out to touch the fabric of the robe.

"You approve?" Talia asked, and Felicity's eyes snapped back up to hers as she nodded.

"Good, now dress," she handed the outfit over gently, "I will gather the army and tell them Al-Vela wishes to speak with them." With that, Talia nodded once to Felicity and then ducked out of her tent, leaving Felicity alone, holding an outfit made for a warrior princess and not an IT girl.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity set the robe and pants down on the top of the wooden chest and then pulled her thermal shirt over her head and toed off her shoes before sliding down her cargo pants. Quickly, she shimmied into the tight leathers of her new suit, buckling the pants up with a thin leather belt. Then she shrugged on the robe, rubbing the material of the sleeves between her fingers to find it hardy like leather, but softer. She still couldn't name it, but that was probably due to the fact that her brain was completely frazzled.

She had to make a speech to an army—and army that believed her to be a vengeful widow who wanted to kill one of the most evil—if not _the_ most evil—man on the planet.

She picked up the cowl and mask that also belonged to the new look, pulling down the mask around her face and securing it expertly.

There was no mirror in the tent, so she couldn't see what she looked like, and she hoped she didn't look as ridiculous as she felt. She stood in the silent tent for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes, consumed by her own insecurities and nerves at having to speak in front of such an enormous crowd.

Already, she could feel her lungs tighten as her breaths began to quicken and she knew she was about to panic when a voice filtered into the tent.

"Felicity?"

She would know that voice anywhere, "Oliver?" She called back, her voice sounding weak and fragile.

He didn't wait to be invited in, her parted the flaps of the tent and stopped short as she turned to face him. His jaw went slack as his blue eyes took her in before focusing on her face. "Felicity, you look," he took a breath and a step toward her, reaching out a hand, "beautiful."

She smiled nervously, and shrugged her shoulders suddenly feeling like the nerdy, babbling girl who Oliver had first met and not the widowed vigilante she had become.

She slid her hand into his and Oliver squeezed, "you okay?"

"No." She answered honestly, "Talia expects me to make a speech, to address the whole army. I can't do that."

Oliver tilted his head slightly, giving her a look that said she was doubting herself more than she should.

"I'm not a good public speaker, Oliver, in fact I'm horrible at it. One time, in the seventh grade I had to give a report on kangaroos—which is where my fear of them originates—and in the middle of my third sentence I just froze up because I heard this one kid in the back of the room mutter some kind of play on words with my name and-"

He cut her off, cupping her face and dragging her to him, crashing his mouth down onto hers. For a moment, she stood shocked, before she melted into him, her hands curling around his wrists.

When Oliver broke away from her, he pressed his forehead to hers, "you have nothing to worry about. There has never been a single moment since I met you where I haven't believed you are completely capable of accomplishing anything you put your mind to. You just need to believe in yourself."

"But, why? Why believe in me, out of all the people who could do this—why me?" She asked, the hysteria rising for a moment.

Oliver pressed his lips to hers shortly, just a soft press before her spoke again, "because you're remarkable, Felicity Smoak."

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

She was breathtaking, haloed by the sinking sun—a benevolent goddess blessing the earth bound sinners with her presence. With the way she strode to the peak of the outcropping of rock that gave a view of the shallow basin below where the army was gathered, Oliver would never have guessed that just moments before she had been almost violently sick with nerves.

She looked the part, with her head held high, the train of her robe trailing in the melting snow behind her. She immediately held the attention of all those gathered as she stepped into their line of sight.

Oliver saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head just slightly enough to see that Diggle had come to stand beside him.

"Hard to believe that's our Felicity underneath the hood," Diggle murmured to his friend and comrade.

Oliver nodded mutely in reply, he had no words now. He had spent them all when he'd reassured Felicity of just how right she was to be the leader of this army. For a moment, seeing her standing tall and alone, the sudden fear that she would be targeted for knowing him, for being put in this position by him, made him want to steal her away and hide her until this whole war was done. However, he knew there was no way he could take her away from this camp or this battle now, she was fully engrossed in it. He had managed to make her believe in herself—something she had always had a hard time doing.

He refused to take that away from her now, so he just stared up at her, just as in awe as every other soldier in the field below as she lifted a gloved hand to draw their attention, the heavy folds of her rob shifting with her movement.

Silence fell amongst the soldiers, and Felicity's eyes swept over the men and women gathered before taking a deep breath.

"For those of you who have not yet seen my face, I am Al-Vela. I am the warrior you fight under, but you do not fight for me, you fight for yourselves," she paused, letting her hand drop to her side, coming to rest on the hilt of her sword.

"All of you today have experienced the tyranny of Ra's al Ghul—the brunt of his cruelty or the burn of his malice. But, you have come out of this persecution stronger, you have survived this crucible more courageously than others. Some have backed down, and given way to the pressure put upon them by the Demon. Some have bowed down to him and bared their necks in submission. But you—all of you—have not. You are pushing back—we are pushing back—and together we will make Ra's al Ghul bow to us in submission like a wounded hound, we will make the Demon feel our fury, hot as an iron, we will make him suffer under our justice, straight and true as an arrow released. Ra's al Ghul will know the loyalty we hold to those who have been wronged by him, a loyalty and a strength that binds us together against him, that makes us stronger than the Demon himself. There are stories that he is immortal, but we outnumber him, we are the ones who will live forever."

There was a murmur of agreement that spread throughout the warriors, and heads nodded, fists clenched, chins raised in defiance to the Demon.

"Tomorrow, I will meet with the Demon. I will tell him of his death that is to come at our hands. If you have a message you would like Ra's al Ghul to hear, tell it to me now and I will deliver it to the Demon for you."

"Death to the Demon!"

"He deserves to die for the wrong he has done!"

"Return to hell where he belongs!"

Various other screams sounded as the soldiers yelled out their messages to the Demon and Felicity

stood, spine straight and shoulders back, listening to all of them as if she was truly committing all their words to memory. She nodded intermittently and allowed them to continue their raucous yelling until they all began to chant as one.

"_All hail Al-Vela_!"

For a brief moment, Oliver saw panic flash in Felicity's blue eyes and her shoulders shook, but before anyone else could notice, she had it tucked away once more under a golden facade that would not waver.

She lifted her hand once more and the crowd silenced, she smirked slightly, "I will pass on these words to the Demon, along with some of my own. The battle will be soon, my friends, but I have the strongest faith in us. We shall succeed, not without causalities and not without pain, but we will succeed, and I hope to see all of you again when this war is won. Rest well, and be prepared, but know, Al-Vela is with you."

And then she turned and walked back down the slope and disappeared into her tent as the chants took up once more, louder than before.

Oliver joined them.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"I'm exhausted," Felicity murmured, dropping her head onto Oliver's shoulder as they walked from Talia's tent to her own. Talia's meeting had been mostly uneventful, except for Felicity choosing who would accompany her to her meeting with Ra's al Ghul the next morning. Ra's had limited her to having two lieutenants guard her during their meeting. Talia had vetoed the idea of Felicity taking Maseo and Oliver—for obvious reasons being one, Maseo was an active member of the League which Ra's was the leader of and two, Ra's al Ghul was under the impression that Oliver was dead—so she had gone with her second choice of Diggle and Roy.

Oliver slowed their pace, lifting a hand to the side of her head, holding her against his shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her hairline.

"I know," he murmured back, "I'll let you sleep alone tonight, I have a feeling you might need the time alone."

She suddenly tensed beside him and lifted her head from his shoulder, her feet stilling in their tracks. He turned to her, noticing the distress on her face.

"This might be our last night together, I'm not spending it alone in my bed. I want you in my bed."

Her words sounded so much like the old Felicity that he couldn't help the corner of his mouth that lifted, but the expression died suddenly as he realized there was no unintentional innuendo in her words—she was speaking truthfully and it was a painful truth. This might be his last night with her, he would be an idiot not to sleep beside her one last time.

He nodded grimly, "you're right. I-I didn't think about that."

She smiled sadly at him before reaching down and tugging on his hand, getting him to begin walking once more.

They ducked into her tent and Felicity pulled him down onto the dusty floor, sitting down cross-legged facing him. They were so close their knees touched and he smiled at the proximity. The tent smelt of earth and Felicity and it was intoxicating and soothing all at the same time. A part of him wished he could stay here with her forever, but he knew, come the morning, they would probably never return to this tent again.

When he opened his eyes, her found her gaze searching his face and he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I think I understand you better now," she whispered, reaching out and letting her fingertips graze his cheek briefly before leaning back on both her hands.

His brows furrowed, "how so?"

"I know what it's like now to have multiple layers to myself, different identities that I can't possibly reconcile into one." She explained, he didn't speak, feeling that she had something she needed to get off her chest. She continued, "the only reason I've been able to stay sane while doing all this is that I can separate myself from the persona Talia has created. There are a lot of things about Al-Vela that are not true about me. I mean, obviously, for one, I'm not really a widow," she reached out and grabbed his hand, leaning closer to him and squeezing his fingers tightly, "you're here."

He lifted his free hand and traced his knuckles along her jaw, eyes intent on hers, "but you were a widow, for a time," he pointed out solemnly, "and you will need to tap into that experience tomorrow when you meet with Ra's. You'll need to call up all the emotions you felt. You need to appear as a woman seeking revenge on the man who killed her husband. You will have to live in that mindset for a while in order for him to believe you."

She nodded, biting down on her bottom lip as her eyes fell from his and she sighed, "this whole plan is dependent on my acting skills. If only Talia had known my only acting experience was a non-speaking role in my sixth grade production of _Annie_."

Oliver smiled softly at her, cupping her cheek in his hand and smoothing his thumb along the skin just below her eye, "you just need practice," he whispered, "here, give me your hands," he murmured, dropping his hand from her face and holding both of his hands out to her. She stared at him for a moment before nodding and slipping her hands into his.

"Close your eyes," he spoke low and soft, leaning forward so his forehead is pressed to hers. He only closed his eyes once he watched her close her own. He took a deep calming breath before continuing, "go back to the day you found out I was dead," he paused as he feels a shiver run through her body, "where were you?"

"The foundry," she whispered, her voice small as she recalled the early morning well, "it was the first night I spent sleeping at the foundry because the nightmares kept me awake. It was early in the morning, Diggle wasn't there yet, I was alone."

"Who showed up?" He asked.

"Nyssa. She appeared out of nowhere, with Maseo and one other League assassin."

"What did she say?"

"She tried to sugarcoat it at first and tip-toe around the real message. Then, all she said was 'Oliver Queen is dead,'" Felicity's eyes squeezed closed and her fingers tightened around his.

Oliver swallowed thickly as she recollected the moment, the only thing keeping him grounded were Felicity's hands in his and her forehead pressed to his skin, and his thumb brushing over her knuckles rhythmically. He hated to know that he had caused her this pain.

"How did you feel, when you heard those words?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

She was silent for a moment, truly taking herself back to the moment, trying to remember the very first emotion she felt in reaction to Nyssa's blunt words, "Anger. I was angry with Nyssa for the way she had been dilly dallying around and then," she stopped.

"Then?" Oliver prodded, though he knew her next words would hurt him just as much as the emotions had hurt her when they had occurred.

"I was devastated. Then she avoided more of my questions about how you'd died, and I got angry again."

"Why would you ask that?" His words and tone were sharp even though he didn't mean them to be, he was aware how much the answer to her questions would've just caused her more pain.

"I had to know Oliver," her hands were clenched tightly around his now, "I had to know how you'd died, because then at least I could stop imagining all the hundreds of ways it could've possibly happened." She hiccuped, "and I was so angry at myself, for-"she cut off suddenly and Oliver opened his eyes to find her staring at him, "for never saying those words back to you before you left."

His hands let go of hers to take her hold of her face and bring her mouth to his in a searing kiss that described their relationship perfectly. They were broken and angry and full of jagged edges but their jagged edges pieced together into a scarred picture that didn't look too bad when one took a step back from it.

"Say them now," he whispered against her mouth.

"I love you." She whispered just before his lips closed over hers again.

"Again," he growled, his mouth against her jaw, pressing hot kisses just below her ear.

"I love you." Her hands gripped his shoulders tightly as he sucked on a tender spot where her neck met her shoulder.

"Again," he whispered, but this time, his face was held inches from hers, his eyes solemn and filled with swirling emotions he would never find words to express even if he spent weeks buried in a dictionary.

When she spoke, her lips swept against his in the briefest of touches, speaking the most monumental words he would ever hear from her, "I love you."

He grabbed her left hand in between their chests and ducked his head down, pressing a kiss against her knuckles before looking back up at her, "I have the rings."

"What?" she gasped, her blue eyes wide, "you do?" Then her expression fell, "it's a little late now, I don't think we'll be able to find a minister in the middle of the Himalayas." The joke was half-hearted and filled with disappointment.

Oliver stared at her for a silent moment before getting to his feet, and pulling her up with him. "Do you trust me?"

Her brows furrowed, "I know they say there's no such thing as a stupid question, but that really..." her words trailed off when his expression turned from hopeful to serious. She nodded, "yes, of course I trust you."

"And you meant it when you said you didn't need a big reception or a dress or a cake?"

"I did, that stuff doesn't matter to me."

"Okay," he said with a nod before turning and exiting her tent. As they moved swiftly, he realized Maseo had not been at his position outside Felicity's tent but he pushed the observation away as he wove through the maze of their camp and arrived at Talia's tent.

"Talia," he spoke her name, "may we come in?"

There was a brief moment where Oliver could hear his heartbeat in his ears and then a voice said, "enter."

He ducked through the flaps of the tent, Felicity following behind him. Seated on a rug in the center of the tent was Talia, Nyssa, and Maseo.

Talia lifted her eyes to the two newcomers, raising her eyebrows in question of their presence.

Oliver took a deep breath, "will you marry us. Tonight. Right now." His voice sounded jittery and out of breath, but he couldn't quite care because Felicity had stiffened beside him and he could feel her blue gaze on him but his eyes were trained on the dark-haired woman seated before him.

Talia looked thoughtful for a minute before she rose to her feet gracefully, Nyssa and Maseo doing the same. The two made to leave the tent but Talia held up a hand to stop them.

"I know of an ancient ceremony, passed down by my mother's people. It will not be like the traditional weddings you have come to know, but it will be a ceremony of unity all the same."

"We don't care. We just want to be married," Felicity said, sounding just as out of breath and nervous as Oliver had.

Talia smiled at them, "Nyssa and Maseo stay, we need two witnesses." Then she looked back at the couple in her doorway, "do you have gifts to exchange?"

"We have rings," Oliver said as he nodded.

"Perfect," she said, "sit down."

For the next hour they listened as Talia spoke in a language neither could understand, but after ever few lines she would give a brief translation or explanation of what that part of the ceremony meant. All of the traditional meaning behind it didn't mean much to Oliver, because the moment meant something to him and he didn't need that meaning dictated to him. He was binding himself to Felicity physically and emotionally, he was agreeing to share himself only with her on every level and the reality that it was all happening was a relief to him.

He found his eyes drawn to her throughout the entire ceremony, enraptured by her words when Talia gave them a moment to exchange spontaneous vows and his heart swelled when he slid the emerald ring he had bought before they left Starling City onto her finger.

As some point, Talia had tied their hands together with a long piece of twine and then draped a cloak over both their shoulders as they knelt together before a small fire.

"May good fortune always be on the side of your union, and may you always hold one another's heart in gentle hands." Talia finished with her final translation before she sat back on her heels, "you are man and wife."

They smiled as Talia undid the binding around their hands and then motioned for them to stand. She placed a hand on either of their shoulders and smiled, "the love between you two is something worth fighting for," she said softly, an infinite sadness in her dark eyes, "protect it at all costs." Then she dropped her hands and turned away from them.

Oliver turned to Felicity and leaned in, kissing her softly, curling his hand around hers, letting his fingers run over the ring now securely placed on her finger.

"I love you," he whispered as he pulled away.

She smiled at him, the happiest he had seen her since he returned, "again."

"I love you."

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

Standing before Ra's al Ghul, without Oliver at her side was one of the most terrifying moments of her life. But Diggle and Roy were standing just to either side of her, so she didn't feel completely alone.

Ra's studied her with dark eyes—a feature his daughters had definitely inherited from him—looking mildly intrigued by her leather and heavy-fabric ensemble.

"_Al-Vela_," he said, his only form of greeting.

"Ra's al Ghul," she returned, her eyes turning stony as she looked at the man who had killed Oliver, run him through with a sword—a sword which now hung at her belt.

"Please, do tell me what reason you have to detest me so, _Al-Vela_," he said, clasping his hands behind his back and pulling his shoulders straight and tall.

Her eyes narrowed, "being called the Demon isn't reason enough?"

He let out a soft chuckle, sounding surprised and amused by her moxie, "that is the reason most tend to fear me."

"You are standing right before, and you are just a man, not a Demon. I have no reason to fear just a man." She replied, her fingers flexing at her side, her whole mind focused on this battle of words with probably the most deadly man on the planet.

"I am much more than _just_ a man," Ra's al Ghul said, spreading his arms wide, trying to look impressive and imposing but Felicity felt no more intimidated than she did when she began this conversation.

"I have witnessed those who are more than man, and trust me, you are not one of them," thoughts of Barry and the meta-humans he had been chasing down, Ray Palmer and his Atom suit, Oliver and her heroic self-sacrificing ways. All more than just simple men.

Ra's al Ghul was a simple man, spurred on by a simple need—the need to survive.

Ra's laughed softly again, looking bemusedly at the blond before him, "you are entertaining Al-Vela, but please get to the point," he motioned with his hand briefly, "the grudge you hold against me, the reason you wish to start a war with the Demon and his League—what is is?"

She tilted her chin upward, not wanting to show the slightest hint of submission or weakness, her eyes darkened as she met his gaze, "you killed the man I love."

A corner of his mouth tilted upward sardonically, "I have killed man men, Al-Vela. I'm afraid you will have to be more specific—who are you the widow of?"

Her mouth settled in her a firm line, her face a placid mask as she replied, "Oliver Queen."

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"So how do you think it went?" Roy asked as he followed Felicity and Diggle down the mountainside back to their camp after their meeting with Ra's al Ghul.

"I think we need to start preparing for war. He's going to call for his forces to attack the minute he returns to them." Felicity said, her eyes meeting Digg's, looking for confirmation. He nodded once and she nodded back, "send up the flare."

Diggle nodded, ripping his back off his shoulders and pulling out the flare they had brought with them, setting it off into the sky so that their camp could see.

"We need to be quick," Felicity said and the three began to jog down the mountain.

When they entered camp it was organized chaos but Talia found them quickly. She placed a hand on Felicity's shoulder, "you know what you must do, yes?"

"Yes, I lead Ra's up to the mountaintop," she said and Talia nodded.

"We will meet you there," Talia said, referring to herself, Oliver, Nyssa and Maseo.

"Okay," Felicity said before reaching behind her and ripping the train off of her robe. She turned to Thea who was standing at a rack filled with weapons, including Felicity's own personal arsenal. "Thea! I need my bow and quiver."

Thea quickly threw the weapons to the blond and then ran up to her, wrapping her arms around Felicity's shoulders, "be safe," she whispered.

Placing a hand between Thea's shoulder blades she hugged the younger woman back, "you too."

Then they departed from one another, not sure they would ever see each other again. She turned to Roy, "take care of her out there," Felicity said, pointing at the young man, "that's an order from Al-Vela."

Roy saluted her in a way that once would have been humorous but now was utterly serious. She nodded and then turned to Diggle, "and you take care of Lyla and yourself. You have a daughter to get back to."

Diggle took a hold of her shoulders, "you have a family to get back to as well," he said, "no unnecessary risks. With the plan we have, there is no need for your blood to be shed."

"But I'm ready, if that's what needs to be done," she said and her words rang with a genuine tone. She had accomplished all that she had hoped to realistically accomplish before this war. She was Oliver's wife, his equal partner and she was fighting for the lives of all those she loved and working to rid the world of someone who could truly be considered evil. If she died that day, she would be at peace with it.

Diggle stared at her with dark eyes and then nodded before moving away to suit up. When she turned again Laurel and Oliver were walking towards her. Oliver's eyes were immediately roving over her figure, checking to see if she was injured after her meeting with the Demon.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, placing her gloved left hand on his arm. He placed his hand over hers, their eyes meeting and communicating without saying a word.

She turned away from Laurel and back to the tent that housed their store of weapons. She disappeared into the tent for a moment, missing Laurel's hurt expression, but then she emerged once more, carrying a bo staff with her.

She held it out to Laurel, "it was Sara's. Nyssa gave it to me, but I think it's more fitting if you have it. It goes with the jacket anyways," Felicity motioned to the leather that adorned Laurel's shoulders. The older woman looked emotional for a moment before curling her arm around the staff.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're ready," Felicity said, "and we need you as a part of the team. Come out of this alive and you have a place on Team Arrow, okay?"

"Okay," Laurel said with a nod and then she turned to head off to find her unit.

Oliver reached down and gripped her hand, opening his mouth to speak to her when suddenly a horn blasted from a hilltop nearby. It was the signal that Ra's army was on the move.

"It's time," Felicity said, cutting off whatever Oliver had been about to say. She rose up onto her toes, pressing her lips to his briefly before letting go of his hand and joining Talia.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

When half of his army turned on him in formation, Ra's did not bat an eyelash though he had lost over a third of his forces, including his own daughter. If he felt shocked by the betrayal it did not show on his face.

"I want Al-Vela!" He called out in a coarse voice, "where is she?"

"Over there, my lord," a assassin said on bended knee, pointing his arm at an outcropping of rock several hundred yards away. Standing atop the cliff was Al-Vela, standing tall and alone. Their eyes met over the vast distance and suddenly Ra's was moving towards her. She kept a good distance between them as she trekked up a bath, winding around the edge of the mountain, heading continuously upward.

Ra's followed, taking stock of his surroundings, realizing she was separating him from his army, but he was not worried.

On the other side of the mountain, Oliver, Talia, Nyssa and Maseo all scaled up a steeper, more treacherous path, planning to reach the rocky clearing where Felicity planned to lead Ra's.

Felicity spun around as she reached the end of the path and the edge of the cliff. Standing before her was Ra's al Ghul in the weak spring sunlight. His hair was sprinkled with silver and gray, giving away only a hint of his true age. Her eyes were narrowed and speculative as she watched him.

"Now we are alone, Al-Vela. This is what you wanted, is it not?"

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

Laurel ducked under the scythe that arced through the air toward her, swinging out her sister's bo staff and sweeping out her opponents feet. She turned in time to block the downswing of a sword, kicking her leg out and catching the League member in the stomach. However, she was too slow to parry the next attacker coming her way and suddenly a war hammer was swung low at her legs and the crunch of bone sounded in the clearing.

Laurel cried out, knowing her leg was broken without even looking. She crumbled to the ground, bo staff dropping from her hand. She rolled onto her back to see the hammer lifted in the air to be brought down onto her head when suddenly an arrow plunged into the assassins through, followed by one to his heart and one to his right lung. The assassin fell back in a heap of blood, his own hammer falling on him.

Laurel whipped around to see Malcolm Merlyn standing a few yards behind her. Her wide eyes took in his bloodied face, a gash below his ear turning his neck red but otherwise he seemed okay. But Laurel knew she wouldn't be able to make it off the battlefield and she expected Merlyn to leave her now that he had saved her life. He didn't owe her anything more than that.

But when Merlyn approached her and then lifted her up onto his shoulder her heart nearly stopped from shock.

"I will take you to the triage tent," he said, ducking around fighting assassins and never once dropping her.

As he set her down on a cot to be checked over by a nurse she stared at him, still in shock. He stared back at her and nodded once before turning and returning to the battlefield.

Her hatred for the man suddenly felt insignificant.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

Diggle saw his life flash before his eyes when an assassin trained a crossbow on Lyla, but luckily Deadshot was quicker, taking out the assassin before his finger could pull the trigger.

He shot the Suicide Squad member a begrudging but grateful nod as he and Lyla moved so they were back to back.

"You know, I'm thinking we should've gotten married before we flew to Tibet," Diggle called over the sound of dying men and battle cried.

"You know Johnny, it doesn't take a marriage license to prove we belong to each other." She glanced over her shoulder at him, "besides, at heart, I will always be yours."

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"Where did you learn to do that?" Roy asked, looking intensely surprised by Thea's arsenal of moves with and without a sword in hand.

She stopped and looked at him, "my father."

Suddenly an enemy ran at Roy and he turned, hitting several quick flat-handed strikes against the assassins abdomen and then chopping him in the throat.

"Where did you learn that?" Thea asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Your brother." Roy smirked at her before reaching out and catching her around the waist, pulling her into him and kissing her hard. Thea at first thought to fight him off, but let herself enjoy it for a brief moment before pulling back, smirking up at him.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"You may have the first move, Al-Vela," Ra's said, holding an arm out wide, his other hand gripping a sword loosely.

She set her jaw, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword as she stared at him calculatingly. She knew she only need to last long enough for Talia and Nyssa too arrive, but she had no way of knowing how far off they were. She would have to fight Ra's for an undetermined amount of time and survive, because if he killed her before Talia and Nyssa arrived, he would call for Al-Vela's army to surrender.

While he was allowing her to attack first, she should take advantage of the situation.

Sliding her feet out to widen her stance, she placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, her eyes never leaving Ra's al Ghul. Slowly, she withdrew her sword from it's sheath, seeing Ra's eyes follow the blade for a moment, his eyes narrowing at the familiarity of the blade.

"That is a League sword." He said, eyes lifting back to her face.

"It's is the blade you used to kill Oliver Queen." She replied, lifting her chin up confidently as she held her blade in both hands.

A corner of the Demon's mouth upturned in a smirk, "and you wish to die by the same blade."

She raised a brow, "I wish for _you_ to die by the same blade."

She didn't wait a moment longer, letting go of the blade so she held it in only one hand she rushed at Ra's al Ghul. The way she moved, he expected her to charge him head on, but at the last moment she dropped to her knees in the melting snow and slid to cut out his legs.

He jumped away quickly, turning to face her once more as she came at him again, a hard downward slope of her sword from above. He lifted his blade perpendicularly to her own, stopping her strike and holding them in a stalemate for several moments until he pushed her off.

Felicity hopped several steps back, her breathing slightly accelerated as she stared the Demon down.

"Better trained than I expected," he commented, smiling like a seductive serpent in the garden of Eden. "But nowhere near the skill you need to have to kill me."

Their figures were a blur on the mountain edge as they fought, Felicity's sword singing through the air and the Demon's fist striking her body soundly. Arcing her blade out at the Demon Felicity's arm was caught by Ra's winding his arm around hers and turning it sharply in a direction it should not turn, a crack sounding out and Felicity gasped in pain before sliding out of his grasp, blade still in hand.

Gritting her teeth, she tossed the blade to her left hand and Ra's smirked, clearly impressed. She came at him again, her blade swiping over her right shoulder, just missing his ear, but the flat of his hand struck her ribs and then her stomach and she stumbled back. His boot slammed into her midsection, knocking her into the snow and rock beneath them.

Her breath flew from her longs and she couldn't regain it as Ra's stood over her, his blade in hand, her's dropped in the snow several feet away from her right hand. Her left hand was close to her body, and just out of his line of sight.

As he stood over her and raised his blade, she reached into the holster attached her to her, drawing out a small crossbow and aiming it at the Demon's chest before he could realize what happened. The small arrow pierced up through his abdomen at an angle causing him to take several steps back as blood leaked from the wound.

The Demon looked shocked, he could not remember the last time an opponent had made him bleed.

But suddenly, the rage overtook him, and his energies were renewed. He ripped the arrow from his chest and the weeping wound was forgotten as he breathed deeply and watched Al-Vela rise to her feet, taking her sword into her hand once again and standing straight to face him.

"You have lasted longer than your husband." He smirked, "but I think that is due to your luck rather than your skill."

"I think, you talk too much," she gritted out before she came charging at him, both hands wrapped around the hilt of her blade. Turning her feet in the snow she slowed her approach, turning her body to the side, swiping her blade out in an arc reaching from one side of her body to the other, hoping to cut into Ra's al Ghul, but her arms fell slack when the side of his hand struck her throat and then his blade stabbed through her lower stomach.

When he pulled his blade out there was a sickening, slick sound that made Felicity cringe as she dropped her blade and stumbled, her hands going to cover the wound instinctively.

She lifted her eyes as the Demon stood before her, looking down at her with surprisingly sad eyes, "you were not ready for this, young one. You let ardor and revenge overtake your better sense," his hand caressed the hair at the top of her head and he smiled sadly. "Now you will die just as honorably as your love."

"Felicity!"

A shocked breath escaped her lungs at the sound of the voice and Ra's turned his head just slightly to look over his shoulder.

Oliver. He raced towards them, a hood pulled over his head, and a cowl covering the lower half of his face. If Felicity didn't know it was him beneath the layers, she wouldn't have recognized him. But his voice.

"You cheat, _Al-Vela_. You have brought reinforcements. Those were not the rules," Ra's chided the blond beneath him.

"I wasn't aware we had finalized those rules." She bit back, feeling her head swim as blood seeped from her wound and dyed the snow beneath her.

Oliver's running came to a stop a few yards behind Ra's al Ghul.

"Face me, Demon," he challenged.

"_No_." Felicity's voice was vehement and much to Ra's and Oliver's surprise, she staggered to her feet, stepping backwards, away from Ra's.

The Demon realized he was in the disadvantageous position, between the two comrades—but he knew killing Al-Vela would do more damage than killing one of her foot soldiers and so, he lunged for her.

Seeing his attack coming, Felicity spun in time, but not quick enough—his blade plunged through her left bicep, tearing muscle and tendons, scraping against the bone. She yanked her shoulder back and off his blade, falling to the side in the snow, rolling over to see Ra's coming at her again but an arrow flew past his chest, slicing through his heavy tunic before he could reach her.

The Demon's eyes turned to the hooded soldier with a dark glare, "you dare to interfere, son."

"I will not let you kill her." Oliver's voice was deeper, heavier and Felicity say the resoluteness in his shadowed eyes. He was going to die, protecting her from the demon. In that moment she realized Talia, Nyssa and Maseo must have been sidetracked, or worse—they wouldn't arrive at all and their plan was shot to hell.

She would have to kill the Demon. Or Oliver would—she wouldn't make him kill for her, not again.

But her head swam and her vision became fuzzy and she knew she was losing too much blood and she wouldn't be of helpful for much longer. Curling her fists into the snow, feeling her fingers scrape against the cold rock beneath she sucked in a deep breath and pushed herself up so she was kneeling in the snow.

Time must have passed quicker than she thought because Oliver and Ra's were deep in battle now, Oliver's bow abandoned in the snow in favor of a blade—her blade, the blade that had killed him once before. With every hit that he took she cringed and she knew that no matter how long or how hard they both prepared, neither of them would be ready to face Ra's al Ghul alone.

Tears stung her eyes as she used both her injured arms to push herself to her feet and she stumbled. Fighting her way through the pain, she turned back to the fight once again and gasped.

Oliver was on his knees, a slit in his pants revealing a deep gash in his thigh, a wound along his ribs weeping as well.

"I want to see the face of the man I am to kill," Ra's spoke strongly, not even sounding out of breath as he reached out, pushing the hood from Oliver's face and ripping the dark material of the cowl away.

Ra's stopped and breathed for a moment as he stared down at the face of a man he had already killed.

"Oliver Queen lives. _Al-Vela_ bluffs."

"You took me from her once," Oliver growled but Ra's just tilted his head, cutting the younger man off.

"And I will take you from her again, and then she will join you in the afterlife, Oliver Queen."

Ra's arm pulled back, blade in hand, intent on stabbing the sword through Oliver's heart but Felicity wouldn't allow that, she wouldn't let the Demon take Oliver from this world again. It wasn't fair.

She raced across the snow, running faster than she ever had before. Her hand reached his shoulder, shoving it roughly, causing Oliver to fall over into the snow half on his stomach as she slid to intercept Ra's blade.

The Demon's blade ran through her sternum and she coughed, her eyes wide as she felt the sword pierce through her other side, completely impaling her.

Ra's eyes were dark, "you give your life so easily _Al-Vela_, without care to your army below."

Out of the corner of Felicity's hazy vision, she saw Talia and Nyssa run around the side of the mountain into the open clearing, swords drawn. Ra's eyes flickered to them and he smirked, "my children are here to witness my victory."

Oliver turned onto his side to see Felicity above him, Ra's blade protruding crudely from her back, painted red with her blood. Oliver's heart stuttered in his chest as fear and disbelief seized him.

"_I was devastated." _Felicity's words from the night before rang through his head as he perfectly understood what she meant. Devastation rocked him at the thought of losing Felicity—and there she stood, hanging on the Demon's blade, dying, for him, and all he could feel was devastation.

"You could never kill me _Al-Vela_," Ra's voice was surprisingly soft as he stared down at the woman.

To the Demon's surprise, she smirked up at him, "I was never meant to kill you."

The shock was evident on his face and he roughly pulled his blade from her chest and she collapsed to her knees, but lifted her head to look up at him as blood curled over her bottom lip, "I was just a figurehead." And then she smiled.

Before Ra's could begin to comprehend the blond's words the ends of two blades pierced through him from behind. One in his chest—his heart—the other tearing through the bottom of his right lung. He gasped, dark eyes wide as blood began to stain his tunic. He dropped the blade he had just pulled from Felicity's chest as the blades impaling him were withdrawn. The Demon fell to his knees, directly opposite of Felicity, who stared him down with cold blue eyes.

"_Death to the Demon_," she whispered before falling back into the snow, Oliver scrambling forward to catch her.

Nyssa and Talia circled around on either side of the father until they stood before him, shoulder to shoulder.

"My daughters," he gasped, "why have you betrayed me—your own blood?"

"Blood means nothing father, when you have broken us, pitted us against one another and stolen what we care about most." Talia's voice was deadly as she glared at her father.

His eyes fell to Nyssa, "you would follow in my footsteps daughter, have the League—you need not take it this way."

"I do not want to follow in the footsteps of a man so obsessed with preserving his own life he does not care if he ruins the life of his own child," Nyssa spoke curtly, her dark eyes never leaving the puncture wounds in his chest.

Talia leaned her face close to her father's, "I have dreamed of this day for decades, father. I have fantasized about the moment where I would let your blood drain from your body until there was nothing left to keep you alive. And you dare to ask me why I would do such a thing," she laughed humorlessly and straightened back up, lifting the edge of her blade and tucking it under his chin, tilting his head up, "you turned my lover against me and stole my son from me. Now, I shall take the two things from you that you hold most important—your power, and your life. Because if there is one thing the Demon fears, it is the oblivion of death. You have spent centuries trying to avoid it and until now you have succeeded."

Suddenly, before Talia could finish her tirade, her sister was standing behind their father, her sword at his neck.

Nyssa bent down slightly, her mouth at her father's ear, "this is for Sara."

Then her blade slid smoothly over the skin of his throat, parting flesh easily and spilling blood into the melting snow.

Nyssa let go of her father as the life drained from his eyes, allowing him to fall forward into the snow, and she straightened, Maseo appearing beside her.

"Guard the body," Nyssa ordered softly, "I will address the troops and call for the League's surrender."

Maseo nodded in affirmation and stood a silent vigil over the Demon's body. Nyssa refused to meet her sister's eyes as she walked past her.

Talia turned to follow her sister but stopped short at the sight that greeted her.

Kneeling the snow, Oliver Queen cradled Felicity to his chest, his arms around her, his forehead resting against hers.

"Stay with me," he whispered, "I will get you help, I will save you and then we will go home," he voice was surprisingly hard and forceful as he left no room for her to argue.

Felicity's hand feebly lifted to his chest, "don't bother Oliver. We're in the middle of the Himalayas, there isn't a hospital for a good hundred miles," her voice was hoarse as she spoke and Oliver was surprised by how coherent she was—but his mind was cluttered and frazzled and fraying at the ends as he felt her blood soak into his pants and shirt, staining his skin.

"I can call Barry, he can get you to a hospital faster than if I take you," he insisted, surprised with himself for creating such a logical plan in such a dire moment. He was not known for making the best decisions under pressure.

"Oliver," the way she said his name was soft as she appealed to him, "I'm dying," she took a shaking breath, "and I'd much rather die in your arms than Barry's," then she smiled humorously, "you _are_ my husband, after all." It was a bad attempt at a joke, with terrible timing, but the truth was threaded through the words and they caused Oliver to tug her closer to him, tucking his cheek against hers.

"You are not dying," he whispered, trying to convince the both of them, to no avail. Felicity's fingers carded through his hair, using what little strength she had left to comfort him.

Her bloody hand drifted to his cheek, "Oliver," his name came out as an exasperated sigh before she smiled softly, tenderly, "I love you."

A sob choked him as he bent over her body further, his forehead sliding against hers.

"Kiss me," she whispered and he pulled back, just far enough to brush his lips against hers lightly.

When he pulled back, he say her roll her eyes just briefly, "this is our last kiss, you can do better than that," she croaked.

Tears leaked from his blue eyes as he leaned in and captured her lips in a heartbreaking kiss that caused Talia, Nyssa and Maseo to all look away—the moment felt too private for their invasive gazes.

Suddenly, Nyssa stood at Talia's shoulder, leaning in to her sister's ear, "Al-Vela must not die," Nyssa whispered her voice low and hard.

Talia's back straightened in recognition of the words.

"You must take them, sister. You are the only one who knows the location," Nyssa spoke softly before pulling back, "do you understand sister. I will not follow through with the rest of your plans if you do not promise me Al-Vela will live."

Talia swallowed thickly and then nodded.

Nyssa stepped away, leaving to address the soldiers that still fought in the valley below.

Wasting no time, Talia approached Oliver, looking down at the broken man, who lifted his crying eyes to her.

"Come with me, Oliver Queen."

He blinked once and then understanding dawned on his features. Sliding his arms beneath Felicity's shoulders and knees he hefted them both up until he was on his feet and he nodded to Talia for her to lead the way.

"Promise me something," Felicity murmured against his neck as he followed Talia down the mountain.

"Anything," he spoke through his heavy exhalation of breath.

"Don't throw yourself into the darkness like you did after you lost Tommy. And don't give up like you did after you lost your mom," he felt her lashes flutter against his neck and her lips brush his collarbone as she spoke.

He swallowed thickly and didn't speak for a long moment.

Her fist curling into his shirt, nails scraping his chest through the fabric, "promise me Oliver."

He sighed, "I promise."

"Good," she murmured, and her eyes closed.

"How much longer?" Oliver asked, Felicity's breathing was weak against his neck.

"We are nearly there," Talia replied, her voice echoing in the silence created by the absence of battle noise. The fighting had stopped shortly after they had begun to descend the mountain, and then cheers of celebration were lifted up, regardless of the fact that Oliver did not feel like celebrating.

At the moment, none of this felt like a win, nothing they had gone through for the past six months felt worth it if Felicity died.

"Oliver," Talia's voice drove Oliver from his musings as she turned back to their path and then disappeared into the mountain side.

His eyebrows furrowed as he neared the sheer wall and then he saw it, a small dark crevice, just large enough for a person to walk through. Gently, he maneuvered Felicity in his arms so they could better fight through the small passageway. The tunnel seemed to go on endlessly for miles, and Oliver desperately wanted it to end because he was certain he could not feel Felicity's breaths on his skin any longer. But he refused to look and find her lifeless.

Suddenly, he was out of the craggy tunnel and standing in a large, high-ceilinged cavern lit by an eerie green-blue glow. Dropping his eyes to the center of the cavern, Oliver took in the Lazarus pit and he sucked in a nervous breath.

"Take off your shoes Oliver Queen, and carry her into the pit." Talia instructed from where she stood against the fair cave wall.

Oliver nodded, toeing off his boots and then taking a calming breath as he located a gentle slope that disappeared into the pit. With Felicity in his arms he entered the pool, walking further until the liquid was level with his chest.

"Submerge her, then you leave the pit, and let Felicity remain," Talia spoke softly.

Oliver was apprehensive, but ultimately knew this was Felicity's only shot.

As he lowered her to the waters, he took in her face and her chest. She was not breathing.

Tears welled in his eyes as his hands pulled her beneath the surface, the green-blue liquid sloshing over his cheeks and sliding into her slightly parted lips. After a moment where she was completely submerged, Oliver released her and backed out of the pit.

He sat down at the edge of the pit, drawing his legs to his chest.

And he waited.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"Nyssa!" Diggle called as he rose onto the open clearing where Felicity had fought Ra's al Ghul, "where is Felicity? Where is Oliver?" He asked the dark-haired woman as she turned to face him.

Her face was solemn as she stared down at Felicity's friends—Diggle, Roy, Lyla, and Thea all stand before her now, faces serious and apprehensive—fearing the worst.

"My father," she paused, her brows furrowing as her throat collapsed in on itself, "Felicity Smoak is dead."

"_No_." The word brokenly leaves Roy's lips as his brows furrow, his still-bloody face crumbling before he turns to Diggle, who places an arm around his shoulder. "No! No, she wasn't supposed to die!" Roy's rage and grief tore through the group like an infectious disease as Thea began to sob, and tears leaked from Lyla's eyes.

Diggle met Nyssa's gaze, seeing the own woman's pain over losing Felicity as well.

Felicity may never had realized it, but she had the world wrapped around her finger—any of them would willingly do anything she asked, regardless of the dangers and she'd had no idea of the power she held. And now she never would.

"Where is she?" Diggle asked and Nyssa's eyes broke away from his.

A hand on his shoulder drew Diggle's gaze from the Demon's heir, finding Maseo standing beside him, "hope is not lost. Good fortune has been on your side from the beginning. If anyone deserves the gift of the pit, it is Felicity," Maseo's gaze then drops to the red snow beneath their feet and he steps away, reaching for something slung through his belt, "if it does not restore her, then this is for Oliver."

From his belt, Maseo pulled the blade that had been meant for Oliver, the blade that was still covered in Felicity's drying blood. Diggle let go of Roy for a brief moment, Thea moving to wrap her arms around the younger man instead. Diggle took the blade from Maseo and nodded once in understanding.

He was right, all hope was not lost. Not yet.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"Shouldn't something be happening?" Oliver asked in a voice wrecked by tears and grief and fear. His body throbbed with his heartbeat, his own wounds long forgotten as he stared at Felicity's body floating in the waters of the pit. Nothing had happened for several minutes.

"Why isn't anything happening!" His voice was angry and suddenly he was on his feet, whirling to face Talia.

The dark-haired woman looked at him sadly, her eyes glassy, "the pit makes no guarantees, Oliver Queen."

The words are like a knife to his heart as he realized what she meant.

It may not work.

He dropped to his knees at the edge of the pool, his head bowed as tears fell and dotted the floor of the cavern. Felicity floated disjointedly in the pit, lifeless, motionless.

"Please, come back to me, Felicity," he begged.

But nothing happened.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

The sun was setting and in the fading light, Nyssa stood over a large unlit fire. Underneath logs and tinder lay her father's body, and before her, the surviving troops were gathered, awaiting words from their leader.

Maseo lights the torch she holds in her hand before she turns to face the masses gathered before her.

"The Demon is dead!" Her voice echoes throughout the valley and victorious cheers lift into the air in response.

"The Demon is dead and a new era of the League shall begin." Nyssa's eyes swept over the crowd, "to those of you who wish to leave the League, I grant you your freedom. I shall not force you to stay, and I shall not force you to go. It is your decision alone."

There were several sounds of approval from the crowd.

"For those of you who stay with me, who pledge their loyalty to me, the League will have a new code, a new meaning and a new mission. We will be done with the old-fashioned ways of my father. We shall take the teachings of _Al-Vela_ to heart—we will fight for those we love, protect them at all costs and extinguish the evils that threaten them."

Cheers rose again, this time in honor of Al-Vela. Word of her death had spread quickly throughout the battlefield, eliciting moans of grief and cries of anguish and songs of praise and glory.

"Now, I begin this new era of the League, in honor of our Queen, _Al-Vela_!" Nyssa yells the words vehemently before turning and bringing the flame of her torch to the pile of kindling that surrounded her father. "And we burn the Demon!"

The pyre exploded into the life, the flames greedily eating her father's flesh. She watched him turn to ash with hardened eyes, and only turned when his frame was blackened and weak.

Team Arrow stood off to the side, not looking half as victorious as the other soldiers and Nyssa approaches them. Silently, she sat down beside them in the circle they had created around their own small fire.

Laurel had joined the group, being carried up the mountain by Barry, who had survived the battle along with Ray. Thea was tending to Roy's injuries and Lyla leaned against Diggle's shoulder.

"Last night, Oliver and Felicity were married by my sister in a traditional League ceremony."

All eyes turned to the dark-haired woman. A mix of emotions was felt by the group—shock, relief, comfort, anguish, heartache, bittersweet happiness.

"So, what's the Arabic word for widower," Roy asked, his voice biting and sarcastic, "because that's what he is now." He rose suddenly and stalked away from the group, Thea watching after him with a sigh. She moved to follow him but Diggle reached out and grabbed her arm. She turned to look down at the older man, who shook his head. Sighing again, she sat back down, eyes staring into the fire, finding the situation completely unfair to all of them.

Suddenly, the war seemed pointless.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

"The sun has set Oliver Queen," Talia's voice breaks through the penetrating silence, causing Oliver's shoulders to jump.

He hadn't moved in what felt like hours, siting on the cold stone, his arms locked around his knees, his forehead resting against his clasped hands.

"Are you saying that if the pit was going to work, it would have worked by now?" His voice is empty of emotion, devoid of any character.

Talia frowned as she stared at the man, "there is no way to tell. There is no time frame."

"Then I'll stay."

Talia nodded, leaning her head back against the wall.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

The sun had sent long ago and darkness had overtaken the mountainside, the pyre was no longer large and formidable but instead a small dying flame—Ra's al Ghul's body a charred heap at it's center. The team still sat in a circle around a small campfire, staring into the flames that raged as they waited.

"What are you thinking?" Lyla asked softly, smoothing her lung along the lines in John's forehead.

He sighed heavily, cracking the knuckles of his left hand against the palm of his right, "I'm worried about Oliver."

Lyla's brows furrowed, "how so?"

John sighed, "He won't react to losing Felicity in the way that Felicity did when she lost Oliver. He won't make himself better, he won't choose the brighter path," Diggle paused, his eyes meeting Thea's across the space between them, "he'll choose the darkness. I'll be spending all my time trying to keep Oliver from jumping into an early grave."

Lyla pursed her lips but didn't say anything.

"He's lost so much already," John whispered before dropping his gaze from Thea's and staring into the fire. "I don't think he could take losing Felicity too, she's always been the bright spot for him—the reason he's kept fighting, the reason he became a hero instead of a murderer."

Thea's eyes glistened at the older man's words and she turned her head, finding Roy's figure leaning against the mountainside, shadowed by the darkness of the night. She couldn't see his eyes, but she knew he was listening. She knew her brother wasn't the only one who couldn't afford to lose Felicity.

The whole team would be lost without Felicity, Thea knew, Felicity was their leader, the glue that held them together, the one who could lighten their moods or sharpen their focus. Thea didn't think anyone in the group could even begin to fill in Felicity's shoes.

"What do we do if she doesn't make it?" Thea asked, gaining a sharp glare from Laurel.

"She's going to make it!" Laurel voice was loud and sharp, causing several eyes to fall on the group. Laurel moved her gaze to the dirt and rock below, embarrassment and fury coloring her cheeks reed, "she has to make it. She has to live, she wouldn't leave us."

Thea frowned as she stared at the other woman but then she turned her gaze to Diggle, her question still valid, and she waited for an answer.

Diggle was frowning as well, "we go home to Starling. We continue to the protect the city, in her memory. We keep Oliver from killing himself in the field, we be his family and his strength that he can depend on. We support one another when the grief is too much. We remain positive, we remember Felicity for what she was—happiness, bright colors, our leader and the most compassionate person I've ever met."

Thea nodded, Laurel nodded reluctantly as well.

"I'll miss her loud voice when she scolds me for sweating on her computers."

It was the first words Roy had spoken in hours and it caused everyone's head to turn to the young man. He stood at the edge of the group, looking solemn, his hands hanging at his sides, shoulders slumped. Thea scooted over on the log she was seated on, patting the empty space next to her. Roy slowly sat down and Thea leaned her shoulder against his comfortingly.

Diggle smiled fondly at Roy's words, "I'll miss her not putting up with Oliver's shit, always calling him out on his half-truths."

"I'll miss her voice in our ears, guiding us when we can't see our paths ahead of us," Thea murmured before glancing up suddenly when Roy's hand slid into hers, their fingers intertwining instinctively.

"I'll miss her challenging me to be better, to honor Sara in a better way. The only reason I've become the fighter I have is because she pointed out to me all the ways that I was going wrong," Laurel's eyes were intent on the fire as she spoke, her injured leg stretched out in front of her.

"I'll miss her interacting with Sara. She was a great aunt, Sara smiles ever time she sees Aunt Felicity." Lyla spoke softly, leaning her head on John's shoulder, feeling his chest deflate as he exhaled.

"She made everyone smile," Roy murmured and the group nodded in agreement.

Nyssa glanced over at the group from where she stood with Maseo several feet away, "still no word from my sister?"

"No," Maseo answered solemnly.

"It has been a long time," Nyssa whispered.

"I have faith yet," Maseo said.

"I wish I shared your faith," Nyssa replied lowly before turning away.

_~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~_

Oliver pushed himself to his feet, his eyes leaving Felicity's lifeless body which still lay in the pit.

"She's gone," he whispered, his eyes lifting to Talia's, tears rolling down both of their cheeks.

Talia pressed her lips together and nodded once, "I shall deliver the news to the army. Return when you are ready."

Oliver nodded and Talia moved to pass him. She paused at his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head, looking into her dark eyes.

"This is not the end for you and Felicity. You are bound together in this life and the next, Oliver Queen. Good fortune has always been on your side, and in your heart," her eyes drop to his chest and then she moves away, walking toward the tunnel that led out of the mountain.

Oliver closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. He released the breath, allowing the tension and anguish to leave his body and melt into the floor of the cavern. He opened his eyes to find Felicity still adrift in the pit.

"I love you, Felicity Smoak. I have loved you for years and I will continue to love you for the rest of my life, however long that is." He curled his hands into fists at his sides, "you brought color into my life when I only say shades of gray, you gave me meaning and a reason to live when all I saw was pointlessness and death. You gave me my happiest and brightest moments, as well as moments where I thought my heart would stop because you were in danger. I cannot thank you enough for everything you have given me. But now, you've given me my life and I don't know what to do with that."

Talia paused at the mouth of the tunnel, listening to Oliver's words, her heart clenching at the brokenness in his voice which was choked by his tears.

"But, this was your life, and your choice and you chose to let me live." He closed his eyes and sighed, "I will never disrespect your wishes, Felicity. I'll keep living, for you, I won't waste the life that you gave me, even if the colors dim and my purpose seems less important, and my moments are dull in comparison to my memories. I love you—

There is a sudden thrashing and the water in the pit sloshes, causing Oliver's eyes to fly open and stare at the Lazarus pit.

His heart stopped, his breath flying from his lungs and leaving him breathless.

Felicity's head lifted from the water of the pit, her blue eyes finding his and her smile matching the one that curled his lips.

When he had thought he would never smile again, Felicity shined a light upon him that brightened the endless night and chased away the Demons.

She rose like a phoenix from the waters and Oliver flew to her.

"Say it again," she demanded in a whisper.

Oliver smiled, basking in the rays of his good fortune, and the beginning of their new life.

_~End~_

* * *

_Hey young blood,_

_doesn't it feel, like our time is running out?_

_I'm gonna change you, like a remix._

_Then I'll raise you, like a phoenix._

* * *

And that's the end, my friends. Thank you for sticking around this long! Drop a review to tell me what you think about the ending. xo


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